Discoveries
by TheSlyls
Summary: Everyone makes discoveries during their lives. It is how you adapt to those discoveries that truly set you apart from everyone else. [Cover art by Shot Deer]
1. Discoveries

"Come on, Fifty! Stay with me! Don't pass out!"

It's crazy how quickly things can change. It's even crazier how humans can adapt to new conditions. After all, if we don't adapt, we die.

"My… My leg! I can't feel… Aaaaah... I can't feel it!"

Humans tried to adapt to the klaxosaurs by destroying the monsters with enormous flying weapons. I piloted one of those weapons, raised from birth and taught everything I needed to know to sit below the transparent canopy of a Flying Reconnaissance And Neutralization Vehicle, or FRANV. My mission was simple: kill the blue monsters.

"Calm down! Calm down! Everything's going to be fine! I'm bringing you back home."

But for every pilot, there is a copilot. Every time I went on a sortie, she was laying down behind me, linking her mind to the machine to control the sensors and the various systems of the plane, allowing me to fly and to fight at the peak of my abilities. However, there was a downside. As soon as this link between mind and machine was broken, only the most basic controls were available and all fighting capabilities were gone.

"It hurts! Aaaah… I'm going to die, Eighty-three! I'm going to die!"

When we took off from Mobile Settlement Twenty that morning, we all thought it was going to be a routine mission. Go there, blow the thing up and go home. But it turned out, klaxosaurs also knew how to adapt. After all, if they didn't adapt, they would die. When we engaged the large creature according to our usual flight plan, it launched one of its arms in our direction and it followed us as I executed evasive maneuvers. But it kept targeting us, and when it got close enough, the arm divided itself in thousands of tiny projectiles going so fast that they cut through the metal armor of the plane and the leg of my co-pilot without any difficulty.

"No you're not! We're almost there! Stay with me, Fifty!"

Through the small mirror that was glued to top of the canopy, I could see her, laying on her back inside her bathtub-like seat. She was wearing the brown suit and the grey helmet that made up the standard attire for copilots. But here, the cleanness and the smoothness of the suit had disappeared when her own blood got splattered all over it. Her face was still covered by the oxygen mask, but I could clearly see her two blue eyes. They were full of pain, full of distress, full of suffering. But they suddenly changed, just like she had accepted something deep within her.

"It... It has been an honor fighting with you, Eighty-three. I… I hope I made Papa proud…"

As soon as we got hit, I pulled both of us out the fight and back towards the Settlement, leaving the other three planes behind to take care of the monster. In fact, at that moment, the klaxosaurs were the smallest of my problems. What I was focusing on was bringing back my copilot to the Settlement as quickly as possible.

But it's crazy how quickly things can change.

And it's crazy how well damaged ammunition can explode.

I wasn't even able to give her an answer that outside, a large fireball engulfed the second half of the FRANV. All the buttons, all the levers, all the controls suddenly lost their utility as the ground started to close in fast. Pulling on the handle did not do anything. The only thing I could do was open all communication channels and scream in the microphone.

"This is Twenty Bravo. I've lost all controls and the plane's going down! We are bailing out! I repeat, we are bailing out!"

With a quick but strong movement, I let go of everything before grabbing the bright yellow handle that had been sitting discreetly between my legs the entire time and pulling it. And as the armored panels deployed from below the seats to cover the canopy, everything faded to black.

* * *

« This is Twenty Alpha to Twenty Lead. Target has been destroyed. No additional hostile contact detected. Over. »

« Copy that, Twenty Alpha. Mission accomplished. What is your status on fuel? Over. »

« We only have one or two minutes left before bingo fuel. Over »

« Understood. Squadron, change bearing to one niner zero and return to base. Over. »

« Lead, Delta. Interrogative: what is Bravo's status? Over. »

« Bravo has crash landed out of your range. Current orders are to RTB, refuel and stay on stand-by for a Search and Rescue sortie. How copy? »

« Twenty Alpha copies. »

« Twenty Charlie copies. »

« Twenty Delta copies. »

« Understood. Twenty Lead, out. »

* * *

During our formation, we all went through extensive classes on what they called the Emergency Ejection Procedure. I knew by heart what I needed to do and how I had to do it, but even the most advanced simulations can't prepare you for what you really feel when you pull that handle.

The Gs that push you in your seat when the pod rises up with the force of several small rockets, then the free fall that tries to lift you up and finally the parachutes that put everything back to normal when they deploy. Then, nothing really. The only thing that changes being the number on the altimeter slowly going down.

"Fifty? You're still with me?" I asked as I tried to find her eyes in the small mirror, but it was so dark that the only thing I could see was the blinking light of the distress beacon next to her head. "Fifty?"

But there was no answer. In my mind, I was already imagining the worst as I called her again and again. I needed to go check if she was alright, but my harness was preventing me from moving my body in any direction, only creating frustration as time passed.

Outside, I could hear many small detonations as the tiny explosive charges rigged all over the frame exploded during the self-destruction procedure. Only the escape pod and worthless sheets of metal would ever reach the ground as the rest of the FRANV went up in flames.

I knew that focusing on Fifty wouldn't do anything good to my mind, so instead I reminded myself of the procedure to follow on landing.

One: Undo the harness using the quick release mechanism

Two: Pull the red handle overhead to disconnect the armored panels

Three: Pull down the panels on one side to open the escape pod

Four: Step out of the pod

Five: Ensure that the surroundings are safe

Six: Verify that the emergency beacon is transmitting

Seven: Wait for Search and Rescue operation

Those seven steps were the key to our survival. If only one of them went wrong, then our chances to see the Settlement again would disappear into the unknown wilderness we were about to land in.

The landing in itself was hard, as a heavy metallic sound made it perfectly clear that we had landed on some sort of stone ground.

Without even thinking, I twisted the knob that was sitting on my chest, releasing me from the tight hug of the harness. I had always liked the feeling of taking the harness off at the end of missions, but here, it felt like I took a weight off my chest. With my body now free to move, I turned around as well as I could in the tight space to get the best grip of the opening handle that was over my head, reachable by both crew members if needed.

As I expected, the handle was heavy as it was directly linked to the seal between the two main panels of the armored pod. But the force you get in a desperate situation can allow to do incredible stuff, and the next second I was pushing down the panels.

The light was blinding. How much time had passed while we were locked in the pod? A few minutes? Several hours? A day? I didn't know. In fact, today I'm still not sure. The thing I'm sure of, however, was that as my view adapted to the new lighting, the first thing I heard was the sound of a light wind going through leaves.

Still half blind, I finally lifted a feet out of the foot well before putting it down outside, immediately feeling the hardness of whatever ground I just stepped in. It caused me to look at the ground, trying to process what was going on.

The ground was black.

To be more precise, the ground was made of an unnatural stone, cracked by grass in many places. Under my boot, I could feel how flat it was. Then, when I rose my look, I saw in the middle of trees what changed my perception of the world.

Buildings.

All around were small buildings, similar to the one in which lived the crews of Settlement Twenty. But no one was there, and it felt like the forest had absorbed the stone.

However, there was no time for observations as I turned around back towards the now open pod. But the pod in itself wasn't what I was thinking about.

"Fifty, can you hear me?" I asked as I kneeled down next to her, reaching to the side of her neck with two fingers.

The only answer that I got was a slow pulse going through her neck. It was enough to reassure me, but deep down I still felt the need to hear her voice. Quickly, I opened her harness and her oxygen mask and I looked around for any visible injuries.

Of course, the first thing I checked was her leg. I still remember how hard it had been for me not to puke while confronted with so much blood. The projectile had cut through the leg without any difficulty, only leaving torn flesh, cut blood vessels and a broken bone behind it. Quickly, I leaned toward the front seat before tearing down the back rest to reveal the first aid kit. From the small white metallic box, I pulled out the small tourniquet that I quickly wrapped around her thigh before turning the plastic handle to tighten it. The bleeding quickly stopped, and I then stuffed the wound with the small amount of gauze I had in hand before covering everything with the best bandage I could do. I did not know if the main artery had been hit, but that injury was enough to put her in a state of shock. The point of the bandage was solely to keep anything out of the wound, but my adrenaline filled mind really hoped it would bring her back to consciousness and ease her pain.

She did not appear to have any other injury, and with the bleeding dealt with, I finally had a chance to breathe and take off my helmet that was now just a piece of high tech junk. With my hands still covered in Fifty's blood, it left two large red prints that broke the uniformity of the clean and cold grey. Strangely enough, it did not cover the large digits of my identification number. Wind passed through my newly freed hair, and it was probably the best feeling I had felt in the last few hours. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. I could feel the difference between the air of the Settlement and the pressurized oxygen that we breathed during missions. It felt cold, almost purifying, as it went through my lungs. My heartbeat finally started to slow down, and it was at that moment that I realized that my hands had been shaking the entire time. At that moment, I felt a form of calm I had never experienced before.

After reopening my eyes, I finally looked around me to find out what were my surroundings. The place where the pod had landed was completely surrounded by two or three story buildings, like some sort of large courtyard. On the ground, the black stone delimited some sort of path around this courtyard, while in the middle was what probably used to be some sort of small park or garden. The closest building was only a few meters away and stood out from others by a few steps that lead to an elevated front door. Grass had started to grow between the rectangular stones of the stairs and moss was covering a good part of the walls, hiding from view anything that would have been engraved in the stone. The other characteristic that distinguished this building from the others was a lone pole sticking out of the front wall several meters above the door, a lone piece of cloth hanging from it. The elements had torn and decolored it, but the three vertical stripes of blue, white and red were still visible. It was the symbol of a past civilization that I knew nothing about.

As my mind wondered trying to understand where we were, the sound of someone coughing reached my ears. I immediately turned around towards the pod.

"Eighty… Eighty-three?" asked a weak voice. It was only a whisper, but the relief it created in my mind was bigger than any other sentence could ever carry.

"I'm here, Fifty. It's alright. We bailed out and we landed safely. Everything is going to be fine."

"Where… Where are we?"

"I don't know… But the beacon is active. They'll come back to pick us up." I was trying to reassure her as well as I could. Having an injured teammate was already a challenge in itself, but having a panicking injured teammate would probably have made everything worse. "How's your leg?"

Slowly, she approached her wound with her hand before softly pressing on the bandage. She did not scream, but I could feel the pain when her eyes clenched. "It… hurts. But I think I'm going to live."

"Does it hurt anywhere else?"

"No… I think I'm good."

I nodded before going back towards the teared down backrest of my seat and pulling the other objects that had been stored there for emergency situations like this, namely a flare, some tiny bags full of nourishing gel and a small handgun. It was enough to survive for a few days while others were setting up a rescue operation. When I returned back to her, she had taken off her helmet too, letting free the short blond hair into the wind.

"It's getting cold and the night is probably coming soon," I said as another gust of wind passed me, making me shiver. "Got to go somewhere covered."

"But I can't walk," she replied, raising her back from her laid down position.

"Too bad there isn't anybody here to carry you," I laughed as I attached the gun to my belt and stuffed the rest into my pockets and my empty helmet. "Give me your hand."

She extended her arm toward me and put it over my shoulders. With one hand, I grabbed the arm while with the other I grabbed her unhurt thigh. I had only practiced this carrying technique on lifeless mannequins, and I gathered my strength to lift Fifty off her seat. Yet, she felt incredibly light. However, mannequins don't feel pain, and I heard Fifty breathing in through her teeth.

"You're alright?" I asked as I shifted my stance to balance her weight on my shoulders and free one of my hands.

"Yeah. Just… Just don't take too long."

She didn't need to say it twice as I walked up the few steps and reached the door. In many ways, those large double doors reminded me of the one of our home under the dome of the Settlement. They were clearly there to show how important that building was compared to the rest. But it was not the time to admire doors. Strangely enough, the handle did not resist and the door turned without any difficulty when I pulled it.

As I expected, the room that this door was leading to was some sort of lobby. Light was pouring from the windows that were not covered by the foliage, creating a darkened atmosphere compared to the exterior. At the opposite side of the room from the door, there were a large set of stairs that lead to the upper floor. Next to its basis was a desk that was facing several rows of tiny benches, while behind said desk was a chair that looked like the most comfortable option available. As I carried Fifty to her new seat, I noticed how everything was dusty, yet clean. It felt like the people that had been there before had left after putting everything in its place, and nothing had moved them since then.

"Thanks Eighty-Three." Said Fifty as I helped her sit down in the chair.

"You need anything?" I asked, putting down my helmet on the desk and emptying its content on the plane surface while she slowly turned the handle of the tourniquet to untighten it. Seeing as blood did not come, she completely unwrapped it with a small sigh of relief.

"I'm… I'm hungry." Her voice was weak, clearing showing she needed as much rest as possible. I handed her one of the small nourishing bag that she immediately cracked opened to drink the transparent jelly full of sugar, lipids, proteins and water. "Dammit, I forgot how horrible these taste."

"Well too bad because we only have that." I replied as looked around the room. In one corner, there was the same colored banner, completely covered in dust, and next to it was another one that I had not seen anywhere outside. Slowly, I extended it, revealing a plane blue cloth with the only symbol being a circle made out of yellow stars.

"What is this place?"

"I don't know… Some kind of small city, but those that lived here left a long time ago. Never noticed anything like this in our history books."

"Maybe it was because of the klaxosaurs?"

"Yeah. It's probably that."

I explored the rest of the building, but the only things I found were empty offices. In some of them, there were old boxes full of papers that I couldn't understand despite the words being written with the letters of our alphabet. The only thing I could possibly make out those papers was a fire, but the light and the heat were not required thanks to our thermal isolated suits and flashlight mounted under the barrel of my handgun.

When I returned to the lobby, the sun had almost set and Fifty had fallen asleep on her seat. Despite the bandage and the blood, she was looking peaceful in the orange light. I passed next to the desk and I picked up one of the remaining nourishing gel before sitting down on one of the bench that was directly facing a window. As I drank the horrible tasting preparation, I looked outside, wondering why all of this stuff was unknown to Fifty and me. Was it that we did not look hard enough in our books? Was it so irrelevant that people did not bother recording it? Or was it that someone was trying to hide it?

During long minutes, I observed the trees and the bushes that grew back where they had been cut for construction. The wonderful ability of nature to adapt to new conditions truly amazed me as my eyes started to close under the strength of my tiredness. I don't know how much time passed, but when I woke up, I felt the strange need to look if the pod was still outside as it was the only life line that linked us with the Settlement. As I peeked outside, the large oval shadow was still there, and I could perfectly see the small blinking light of the emergency beacon. But then, another shadow appeared.

It was bending over the pod, not really moving, as if it was examining what was inside the device. It stayed like that for several long minutes, and while I was watching it, I instinctively reached for the small pistol that I had put down on another bench. It only had one magazine, loaded with small high velocity cartridges made to defend oneself from the attacks of a small klaxosaur. It was clearly not something one would use for directly attacking a monster, but it was still better than nothing.

Suddenly, the shadow rose up, changing its shape to something looking vaguely like a man. I watched it as it moved towards the front steps of the building, following the marks that I had left on the ground while carrying Fifty, and the only thing I could was tightening my hold on the grip. My heart and my mind started to race. What was I supposed to do? Shoot it on sight? Wait and see if it was going to attack us? Should I abandon Fifty if things start to go wrong? I had so many questions, but not a single answer.

While I was trying to find a way to get out of this situation, the shadow reached the door. The only thing I thought was the right thing to do was to protect Fifty so, as the handle started to move, I rushed towards the desk and dived behind it.

I wasn't able to tell whether or not I had woken her up as I immediately pointed the gun towards the slowly opening door. When the shadow started to poke out of the doorway, I turned on the small barrel integrated flashlight at full brightness. After all, if I wanted to shoot it, it was better to know what I was shooting at.

When the light shined at it, the shadow immediately stopped and raised one of its arms to protect its face. It was at this moment that I found out what this shadow really was.

A man.

I lowered my gun, completely speechless, allowing the man to lower his arm without being blinded by the light.

"Who are you?" I launched towards him as I observed him.

He was wearing a large cloak made of several different pieces of cloth patched together, his face mostly hidden by a hood. Underneath was some sort of sleeveless vest over a shirt with a strange green and brown pattern. Hanging in front of him was some sort of rifle with a many parts made out of wood.

"Who are you?" I asked again, ready to raise my weapon again.

He replied something, but I couldn't understand any of the words he was saying. Slowly, he reached for the sling of his rifle, took it off before putting the old looking gun on the ground. Then, with a push of his foot, he made it slide a few meters away from him.

On the spot, I didn't really know what to say and what to do, so I turned my head back towards Fifty. She had woken up, but her face was clenched as she held her leg, breathing heavily through her teeth.

"Fifty!"

The blood filled bandage had started to come loose, and a few drops of the red liquid had already fallen down on the dusty ground. My hands started to shake again as I reached to what was left of the first aid kit. But I had almost used everything to make the initial bandage. The only solution was to go back to the pod, pick up her own kit and come back. It was the only thing to do, but it also meant leaving her for one or two minute with that man I knew nothing about.

But while I was not looking, he stepped closer and started to take the bandage off her leg to examine the injury. His movements were calm and precise, and for some strange reason this simple sight made him trustworthy in my eyes.

Finally, Fifty's pain convinced me. I stood up and ran towards the door that was still open, rushing past the man that hadn't really moved. Outside, the wind was freezing but I couldn't stop, jumping several steps to gain as much time as possible before almost diving into the back seat. As I had already did with my own seat, I teared down the backrest, revealing the exact same set of survival equipment. I grabbed the first aid kit and rushed back up the steps through the open door.

The man was laying Fifty down on the ground. I couldn't really protest, because in the end this was making my task of making a new bandage easier.

As I arrived, he turned back towards and started to speak to me in his language again.

" _Je sais pas ce qui a fait ça, mais ça pisse le sang. Y a beaucoup trop de vaisseaux sanguins coupés. Je peux faire que du temporaire, mais il faut qu'elle aille voir un docteur._ "

At first, I understood that he was explaining what he had found, but the last word he said sounded awfully similar to something I knew.

"Doctor?"

He simply nodded before opening up the fresh first aid kit, pulled out the tourniquet and handed it to me. What he wanted me to do was obvious and I immediately started to put it around her leg. But as I was tightening the tourniquet, the man turned around, put his right hand in his mouth and let out a long a powerful whistle.

"What was that?" I asked, confused, after having finished my task.

But, obviously, he did not give me any answer as he returned to making a bandage using only the remains of the first roll. I was about to make inventory of all the usable items I had when I heard footsteps coming from behind. I immediately reached for my handgun and turned around, only to realize that another man had entered. By reflex, I had pointed the barrel towards the newcomer, causing him to point his own weapon, another wood covered rifle, towards me.

The first man yelled something at the other while at the same time waving one of his hand to make me lower my pistol. It was only at that point that I noticed how similarly both men were dressed, which made clear that the two were some sort of partners. And seeing how he spoke to the newcomer as he explained the situation, it seemed like the first one had some position of authority over him. The second man seemed unsure, but still nodded and started to undo his own cloak as the leader turned back towards me.

" _On va vous amener vous et votre amie dans l'église. Vous serez au chaud et notre docteur pourra examiner sa jambe. Tout va bien se passer, ne vous inquiétez pas._ "

I could only give a nod stating that I agreed even though the only word I understood was doctor. The man then returned to his colleague who had laid his cloak on the ground and, with a calm movement they moved Fifty on top of it. I almost asked what they were doing, but their actions answered my question before it left my mouth as they lifted the piece of cloth like a makeshift stretcher.

Quickly, I gathered back all the useful stuff and followed them outside, using the first aid kit cases and my own helmet as carrying tools. And even if they were focusing on carrying Fifty as best as possible, they were still relatively fast as they avoided small obstacles on their paths.

We went around the park that was in the middle of the plaza, giving me a good time to look around even more. On most buildings, shutters were completely closed, as if everybody had taken the time to close everything. Then, without any restriction, nature had claimed back the area as grass, bushes and even trees grew between the stone.

The four of us were heading towards the building situated on the opposite side of the plaza. It stood out from the other buildings, and something about its look gave me the impression that it was the oldest in that town by a margin of several hundred years. It had a set of steps too, but those one led to more massive doors, and just above the heavy wood panels were engravings that were representing scenes that were unknown to me. But I couldn't try to figure out what they meant as we rushed up the stairs and stopped in front of the door.

Carefully, the leader let go of the stretcher with one of his hands and started to hit the door with a very precise pattern. At that point I knew I wouldn't understand anything I saw right away, so I just waited as metallic sounds came from the other side of the wood panel.

And the door opened.

What I noticed immediately were the large wooden structures that were filling up what apparently was the largest room of the building. But then I noticed the people.

Lots of people.

Men and women all had their looks turned towards a girl and a boy in strange suits, two of their own helping carrying her on a makeshift stretcher. They watched them go through the alleys between the structures towards the part of the building marked with a simple red cross before putting down the girl on one of the empty small beds along the stone wall.

There was another man in this room, his short gray hair and the wrinkles on his skin clearly showing that he was older than the two carriers. As my two helpers laid down Fifty on a bed, the old man that I assumed was a doctor of some sort pulled some curtains, separating us from the crowd that had started to gather to see the strange looking new comers. The three men exchanged a few words as I sat down in a small wooden chair next to my co-pilot. I softly touched her forehead and I felt the heat that was coming out of it, only making my worry grow.

The three men apparently reached some conclusion as the doctor also sat down next to Fifty to look at her leg injury while the carriers disappeared through the curtain. Outside, I could hear the voices of many people trying to ask questions without getting any answer. Apart from a few other beds, this infirmary was also furnished with a few shelves filled with old books that were no doubt about various medical subjects while all the needed light was provided by several simple lightbulbs hanging from the walls, meaning that this settlement had electricity. But before I could think about how they generated that energy, the doctor tapped on my shoulder before making a few hand signals, asking me to open the first aid kit that I had carried with me. He looked at what was left of the bandage rolls and the other supplies before grabbing the small pair of scissors that was inside of it. With the short but sharp blades, he cleanly cut the bandage, exposing the hole full of bloody gauze, before cutting through her suit all around her injuries. Her skin had become completely red, as expected from that kind of injury, but there were also some parts that had become unnaturally blue.

The same shade of unnatural blue as the klaxosaurs.

The doctor reached into the box and pulled out the already prepared morphine syringe. As indicated by the small drawings, he twisted off the cap and smoothly planted the syringe in Fifty's arm before pressing the top, injecting the transparent liquid in her bloodstream. As he put back the empty syringe in the box and grabbed the bandage rolls and the gauze, I heard the crowd behind the curtain. I turned my head in time to see the leader reappear, only wearing his green and brown clothes, and carrying a strange little but thick book. He approached and handed it to me, much to my confusion.

The cardboard cover was worn out but the print was still visible. There was the same tricolor banner next to another blue, white and red banner, this time made of several crosses on top of one another. In large print, there were a few words written in the unknown language, but the translation was just below it.

 **French English dictionary**

On each page, there were dozens of words and their translation in the other language, first in one way then in the other. I had already used dictionaries before when I learned my own language in the Garden, but I had never seen one like this before. The more time went by, the more suspicious I felt towards what I learned. It was just like something had been hidden for a reason.

With this, we were able to communicate, but not without some difficulties. The leader introduced himself as Frederic, while the doctor was named Jule. But when he asked what my name was, I did not really know what to say.

"I… I am Code Zero Eight Three", I faltered, "FRANV pilot in the Mobile Settlement Twenty FRANV Squadron. And this is my co-pilot, Code Zero Five Zero."

The two seemed confused as they had never heard those words before. They looked through the dictionary, and the few words of my sentence that they could find in it were apparently not helping. The situation was awkward to look at, and I said the only words that I felt could carry the message across.

"Thank you."

Their reply was to say that it was only normal to help. But they were quick to ask the questions that I was expecting. What happened? Why did this oddly shaped pod land so close to where they lived?

"We were fighting to the south, not far from here, but our plane got hit. There was nothing I could do, so we had to eject. We never thought that we would land here… We didn't even know that there were people living outside the Mobile Settlements."

Their reaction seemed to indicate that it was the last two words that confused them. With the simplest I could think of, I tried to explain how the Mobile Settlements functioned and how it allowed humans to safely live without the fear of any kind of shortages despite the klaxosaurs and the lack of resources. My explanations were slow as I had to look for all my words in the dictionary, but I could see them nodding as they started to understand my point. However, I also wanted to ask questions.

"How do you protect yourselves from the klaxosaurs?"

Everything in this building had been made out of scrap materials gathered here and there throughout time, and there were obviously not a single anti-klaxosaur weapon in sight. Even their electrical system was made of exposed wires quickly welded together.

Both men shared a strange look before Frederic answered.

For them, klaxosaurs were not a danger.

I didn't say anything, but my eyes did all the talking. It was clearly impossible. I had already fought with my squadron dozens of battles against those monsters as they came rushing to attack Settlement Twenty and all the Magma it contained. There was no way what they were saying was true.

But they continued, saying that they had barely seen any come near the settlement, and that when they actually did, it was simply as they moved towards another destination. They had never witnessed a klaxosaur attacking anyone, ever.

My brain had trouble processing their testimony. I had always thought that those monsters were the most dangerous life form on this planet, that they shouldn't even be considered as anything close to animals, that the Settlements were the only way for Humanity to survive in those dangerous times.

Yet, they were here in front of me. Two men that had lived several decades without needing the safety provided by the many battles fought by FRANV crews. Were my teachers lying? No… There had to be another piece of information that I didn't know, something that would put the pieces together smoothly. So I asked Frederic about why everybody had left, why all the buildings were empty.

He sighed before telling me that he didn't really know exactly as he himself was born many years later, but one day people were ordered to leave their homes. His theory was that at the time, the klaxosaurs were a real danger, forcing people to evacuate, but that with time they became less hostile. Some people refused to leave, and after many years, this settlement was the only thing that was left. There were also stories of huge camps built around Magma power plants in which people that evacuated had to live in, stories of how they were destroyed by klaxosaurs and stories of how the few survivors scattered in the wild without any resources, a few lucky ones finding friendly settlements.

As I listened, I felt tiredness slowly coming back to me, my eyes becoming harder to keep open with time. Frederic and Jule noticed, and they quickly pointed towards the second bed. The simple mattress was clearly not as good as what I was used to back at the Settlement, but it was still miles better than the bench I had spent the first part of my night on.

Then, the only thing I remember was waking up with the sun hitting my eyes directly through the old colored window. But there was something else, a noise that I was not really able to analyze as I yawned. As seconds went by, both my vision and my hearing were losing blurriness. First, I realized that the noise was actually a slightly distorted voice, then that it was actually speaking the language I knew, and finally that it was coming from the headphones integrated into my helmet that was on the ground, next to the bed.

"Twenty Bravo? Twenty Bravo? Do you copy? What is your status?"

I reached for it, feeling with my hands the dried blood that was still on the cold metal, and put it over my head, allowing me to speak into the integrated radio.

"Huh… This is Twenty Bravo. I read you loud and clear, over." I said, rubbing my face trying to wake up faster.

"Twenty Alpha and Twenty Charlie are heading towards your position. ETA twenty minutes, over."

"Copy that Twenty Lead. Everything is clear over here. No need to change LZ, over."

"Understood, Twenty Bravo. Twenty Lead, out."

The voice stopped, and a few seconds later Frederic entered as I checked the temperature of Fifty's forehead. It was still hot, but it felt like it was less than earlier, which brought a small smile on my face. The man said hello before handing me a bowl filled with a vegetable soup.

With all the polite words I could find in the dictionary, I refused, saying that I was not feeling like eating, but in reality I knew that I was going to go through endless medical tests and that any suspicious data would have important consequences. He nodded, putting the bowl on a small free space on a shelf, before stepping back towards the curtain. He had barely lifted it when I called him again. With some difficulties, I explained that we had to go and that another plane was coming to pick us up.

When he understood, I saw a little bit of what I interpreted as sadness appearing on his face. He simply shook his head before diving one of his hands into a pocket. I wasn't able to see what he pulled out with his fist completely closed. He reached for my right arm, and slowly he put down the mysterious object in it.

It was a small rectangular plastic stick with a label stuck on it that was reading a single word.

 **MUSIQUE**

One end of the stick was actually a cap, and pulling it off revealed a small metal plug. I had already seen similar devices in the hands of our Officer or the mechanics working on the FRANVs, and I knew these were used to store and transfer data. Obviously, this one was less advanced, but it had some sort of added weight. It was like it carried with in it a huge part of a culture that had almost disappeared.

I thanked him with a large smile before putting the stick in one of my suit's pocket and turning back towards Fifty. I softly grabbed her arm and her thigh and, with slow and large movements, I lifted her on my shoulders. I was about to pass the curtain when I stopped myself. There was one thing I had to do before leaving. I had to tell him one word. The one word I remembered from the dictionary.

"Merci."

He smiled and tapped my shoulder before stepping in front of me and raising the curtain. I followed him down the alleyway towards the large door, once again feeling all the looks turned towards me. We stopped next to a man that was acting as a guard and Frederic exchanged a few words with him. He only looked partly convinced, but simply shrugged as he started to lift the huge wooden bar that was preventing the panels from moving.

While he was opening the door, I turned my head towards Frederic one last time.

"All you, hide. Not go outside. Very danger." I said as a warning, even if I knew he would have to check the dictionary to understand my words. I didn't know what could happened if the rescue team were to discover them, but I knew it was not going to be good.

Frederic simply nodded before giving me another tap on my shoulder, this time like he was trying to softly push me out of the building. I walked down the steps and I turned around one last time when I reached the ground. The door was closing, and behind it, Frederic was waving goodbye.

The heavy sound of the hit between the two panels resonated on the walls of the abandoned buildings. Once again, we were alone, even though it wasn't supposed to be for very long and I knew we were being watched. The pod had not moved, still standing where it had landed, the rays of the morning sun hitting the grey mat paint and giving it an almost mystical feel.

I laid down Fifty on the ground, her back on the cold metal, and I sat down next to her. The daylight revealed even more details that I had missed, like how some windows were slightly open to make some observation points or how a small part of a wall had crumbled. Those ruins had some sort of charm, a beauty that only showed in calm moments like these.

"Hnng… Eighty-three?" suddenly launched a weak voice right next to me.

"You're finally awake?" I replied with a smile, trying to lighten things up a little.

She only answered with a grunt, rubbing her face to help her wake up faster. "Wait… Weren't we inside that old building when I fell asleep?"

She didn't remember what happened, and I felt relieved. For now, I wanted to keep this a secret, not only for my own safety, but also for Fifty's and for the one of those living inside the village.

"Alpha and Charlie are coming to pick us up. They'll be here any minute, so I had to move you even though you were sleeping. Anyway, how's the leg?"

With a slow movement, she reached for the bandage and softly pressed it. Then she extended her arm further down her leg and did the same thing.

"It doesn't hurt but… I don't feel my leg."

She apparently did not notice the blue marks that the bandage couldn't hide. Again, I did not say anything to keep the situation calm.

"Good," I said instead. "Looks like I didn't forget the first aid classes after all."

Silence returned between the two of us. Fifty was looking at ruins, probably experiencing the same kind of marvel as I did thanks to the new lighting.

"Is this where they got inspiration for our quarters?"

"Probably… I wonder what it was like when people were around."

I was perfectly aware that I was lying, and I really hated to do it, especially to my own copilot, the one person I needed to trust the most.

"Maybe it was like how the adults live in the Settlement… Too bad we don't really know how it is."

I was about to reply with a question on how adults lived when the radio speaker in my helmet started to buzz again.

"Twenty Bravo, this is Twenty Alpha. Do you read? Over."

"Twenty Alpha, this is Twenty Bravo. I read you loud and clear, over."

"We are inbound to your location. Requesting marking of recovery point, over."

"Copy that. Deploying flare on the recovery point. Twenty Bravo, out."

I sighed before standing up. With a few steps, I went around the pod towards its back. Along the curved surface was a small detachable panel marked by a red and white triangle. Despite the tight sealing, I detached the panel pretty easily, revealing a bright orange box and a switch. The box wasn't really big, but it was really heavy with the countless layers of protective materials designed to keep all the crucial data it contained safe from any damage. I put it on the ground next to me before turning around towards the free space between the pod and the building we had spent the first part of our night into.

I pulled a flare out of one of my pockets and, after twisting the top, threw it a few meters away. When it stopped bouncing around, a cloud of red smoke started to rise from the device.

Suddenly, a faint noise slowly faded in, like summoned by the smoke. It was a roar that was only growing larger and larger every second until the large and familiar shape of a FRANV appeared over the ruins.

The engines situated at the tip of the wings were pointing downwards, blowing hot air down on us, allowing the massive metal bird to stay still above our heads. Underneath, the weapon bay opened, but it did not reveal any anti-klaxosaur missile. Instead, something was slowly descending from it, attached to the plane by a heavy rope.

This something was called the Personnel Recovery Device, the official words chosen to describe what were simply two seats attached to a rope. When it touched the ground, Fifty had already put her helmet back on and was trying to stand up. I put her arm over my shoulder and helped her walking towards her seat and seating on it. While she strapped herself and connected her helmet to the oxygen system, I ran back towards the open hatch. The one last thing I had to do was turn the switch in several directions in a precise order. A light started to flash, telling that I had two minutes.

I reached for the bright box and went to store it in a special container strapped to the rope before seating in the remaining free seat. With the same movements I used when getting in my FRANV pilot seat, I tightened the harness and linked my respirator to the oxygen system of the Recovery Device.

"Alright I'm good," I said in the small microphone that I knew was now connected to the internal communications of the FRANV. "Pull us up Alpha."

"Copy that."

The rope immediately tightened up and the two seats started to rise up, away from the ground and towards the open mouth that was the open weapon bay. Below our feet, the shape of the pod was becoming smaller and smaller until the two minutes ran out and the thermite charges lit the metal structure ablaze, destroying all the electronics and all the data in an intense chemical fire.

After a few dozen seconds, we finally entered the weapon bay, and as the metal doors shut down under us, I could only think about Frederic and the settlement and how they were surviving with the bare minimum.

After all, if they didn't adapt, they would have died.

* * *

 **Welcome and thank you for reading the first chapter of Discoveries.**

 **First, let me introduce myself. I am TheSlyls, I am a 20 year old Frenchman who has been writing fanfictions for the past two and a half years. I started with a story that I still write to this day : GATE : Opération Marteau de Justice. The point that got me to write was that I wanted to fix the inconsistences and the part of the story that did not make any realistic sense. And now, here I am with my first fiction that has an original story.**

 **But I can already hear you ask. Mobile Settlements? FRANV? Planes? Is this even a Darling In The FRANXX fiction? My answer is that when my friend SpaceFox (who I must thank for beta reading this chapter) introduced me to DitF, I really enjoyed the overall story and character development. But I also hated a lot of things, mainly the design of the robots and the cheap fan service. It was constantly taking me out of the story as I was thinking "What kind of engineer would design this?" or "I don't want to see close-ups of asses! Get on with the story already!" So that is why, with my story fixing skills and the military knowledge I had acquired writing for GATE, I decided to change various elements more or less subtly so that they are believable in my eyes. It should not be too difficult to understand what X or Y is based on, and I don't believe that it goes against the story I want to tell.**

 **I have already written the second chapter that I will post immediately after this one and the third chapter will come later, after I finish the 28th chapter of my GATE story. Until then, don't hesitate to write down a review if you have anything constructive to say.**


	2. The Day That Never Comes

A slight buzzing sound was filling the elevator as the cabin rapidly rose up along the central pillar of the Settlement. The large bay window gave a wide and unobstructed view of almost an entire half of the inside of the metal dome, allowing the passengers to see people going about their day down below. But most of the time, this elevator was used by FRANV pilots. Pilots who never had any contact with adults. Or at least with adults apart from their Squadron Officer.

Formally, pilots were to refer to her using official terminology at all times. But in reality, for Squadron Twenty, she was Maria. She was the figure they had knew ever since they took their first steps in the nursery of the Garden. And if all those years spent together had built a strong sense of trust between squadron members, it also did between the squadron and their officer.

But there are secrets that even people of trust should not know.

While waiting to be rescued, Eighty-Three had made discoveries that went in direct contradiction with what he and all the others had been taught by Maria over the years. And with both of them standing next to each other in the cabin, the pilot was far from feeling comfortable. He had the feeling that at any moment, she would notice something off that would force him to reveal the many things he wanted to keep to himself. The only thing he could really do to calm down was fidgeting in his pocket with the small plastic stick he had preciously kept with him during all the medical check-ups he went through. It had been a small miracle that nobody had noticed it, and Eighty-Three was more than glad for that.

"Are you okay?"

After several minutes of almost complete silence, the sudden question startled him.

"Ye… Yeah… I'm fine," he faltered as a reply before turning his head towards her. "It's just that when we were outside, we have seen very old things that we never read about in any of our books. And I can't help but think about it."

It was only half the truth, but he hoped that by telling this, he would appear honest enough for her not to ask any more questions.

"Well it is true that history is not something pilots are taught, but I imagine that by searching hard enough in the library, you will find answers to your questions. But sometimes a life time is not enough to find what we look for."

Eighty-Three only nodded, barely listening to the officer's advice. Instead, his mind focused back on the images of all those people living in the wild without the fear of the klaxosaurs. They did not have any technology, yet they provided all the needed care and he felt more connected to them than to any adult that was currently living in the Settlement.

The metal landscape disappeared as the elevator reached the final step of its ride along the pillar and entered the ceiling of the dome. Were it not for the lights installed within the cabin, the darkness inside would have been total. But only a few seconds later, the ride finally ended.

Both Maria and Eighty-Three turned around as the door that had been behind them opened without a noise. Quickly, they walked through another small corridor not unlike all the others in the Settlement before arriving in front of a closed door. And with a gesture she had already done a thousand times, she swiped her hand in front of a security panel. At first, there was only a small confirmation sound. But quickly enough, the two panels slid out of the way, revealing a paved walkway protected from the sun by trees on both sides. That day, the shade was very much welcome as the sun was hitting hard through the clear panels of the dome.

By stepping on the straight path, both of them entered what was officially called the _Crew Living Facility_. But for the pilots, it was home. All under the dome, it was made of a large forested park that hosted a small building in a style that heavily contrasted with the rest of the Settlement. The ground floor hosted all the common rooms such as the mess hall or the living room while upstairs were all the rooms that required a separation of the boys and the girls, each gender getting one wing for their bedrooms and bathrooms.

As Eighty-Three closed in on the main door, he clearly noticed the similarities with the buildings he had seen during his outdoor experience. The stones, the architecture, the overall style, he was seeing everything under a new light. And as far as he could remember, he had never felt this strange when passing the main entrance door before.

The main lobby was completely empty, and the familiar feeling of the carpeted floor under his shoe brought his mind back where it was supposed to be. It was only at this moment that he realized that he was truly back among his squad after many hardships. And in a way it warmed up his heart a little as he followed Maria next to the closed living room doors. Without waiting for him to quickly redo his hair, she opened the two panels wide open, which immediately sparked a male voice inside to bark an order.

"Squadron Twenty! Attention!"

When he stepped inside, he immediately noticed the six pilots standing straight in a clean straight line along the wall.

"At ease," simply answered the officer as she stopped in front of the first pilot in the line, Code One One Zero. "I am happy to announce that after post recovery medical examinations, Code Zero Eight Three has been cleared to rejoin the squadron. However, Code Zero Five Zero is currently undergoing surgery for her leg injury and it is too early to tell if she will be able to return into a cockpit. But you can rest assured that she has been stabilized and that she is no longer in a critical condition. Again, I want to say congratulations to everyone. This is the first time you had to perform a real Search and Rescue operation, and you all performed by the book. Now I believe you have many things to say to Zero Eight Three, so I am going to leave you alone."

Without giving anyone the time to react, she turned around and walked away, closing the living room doors behind her. But it was only when he heard the sound of the main entrance door shutting close that Eighty-Three spoke, looking at all the various members of the squadron.

"I am sorry," he started which brought some surprised looks on some faces. "Through my lack of attention, I put not only Fifty and myself in danger, but also all of you by forcing you to fight with only three planes. So I want to sincerely apologize to all of you."

But suddenly, he felt a hand softly putting itself on his shoulder.

"Don't be sorry, Eighty-Three. That kind of stuff happens when we fight. We have all trained for it, so don't worry."

The reply came from the squadron leader, his serious look fixed towards the recovered pilot. Eighty-Three lowered his head, trying to brush away the feeling of guilt. He remained silent for a few seconds, before giving a tiny nod.

"Thanks One-Ten."

By that point, nobody was standing in line anymore and they had all gathered around Eighty-Three who finally took the time to sit down on one of the couches.

"So," continued Code Three Zero Five, One-Ten's copilot, "how do you feel? You probably got shaken quite a lot down there."

Her voice had some sort of calming effect. But it was not due to her tone or her intonation. Instead it was because as the years went on and the pilots grew up, Maria started to act more and more seriously towards them, and Three-Aught-Five had started to fill up that role by always caring about the others' issues.

"I am a little tired," replied Eighty-Three. "I barely got any rest during the night because I had to care for Fifty's wound. And ever since you brought us back here, I didn't have any opportunity to take a nap."

"What about her? What really happened to her back then?"

He simply shook his head.

"I don't really know. When that thing split up, it went through the armor like a hot knife through butter. And if it can pierce armor, it can easily pierce a leg. It wasn't pretty, believe me. That's why I tried to RTB. But the ammunition exploded and we had to bail out. Good things those ruins provided us with shelter for the night."

For now, he felt like keeping his squad mates in the dark was the best way to go. It was too big of a risk to even imply that he was helped by someone living outside a Settlement, let alone tell everyone about an entire village.

"Well it's a good thing you didn't get hurt. Retrieving you would have been way harder, but I guess it's not something we couldn't have done anyway."

"Yeah, we never doubted you would come. By the way, I know that you and One-Ten were those that picked us up, but what about the rest of you guys? Who did what?"

His reply came from someone who had not talked yet, Code Eight Two Seven, pilot of Twenty Charlie.

"Me and Twos came along for support," he said as he put his elbow on the shoulder of Code Two Two Two, his male co-pilot. "Meanwhile, the girls over there were lucky enough and got to stay here to sleep a little longer."

With his thumb, he quickly pointed towards the two female crew members of Twenty Delta who both rolled their eyes at almost the same time, much to the amusement of Twos and his pilot.

"You perfectly know we stayed on stand-by during the whole thing, Eight-Two. You would have thanked us if the Settlement got attacked while you were away," launched Code Five Nine Four with a very serious voice while Code Four Seven Eight was sending dark looks at the two boys who couldn't help themselves but continue to chuckle.

"Oh come on, Nine. Can't we laugh a little bit?" asked Twos, trying to cheer her up. But the only reply he got was a negative shaking of her head. "Well alright then. Understood. No fun. Not for Nine and Four-Seven at least."

Eighty-Three smiled as he witnessed the scene. People living outside or not, he was back home among people he could trust with his own life.

The sound of a soft bell suddenly rang out of well-hidden roof speakers, immediately breaking out the feud as everyone started to move towards the door leading to the lobby.

"Are you hungry?" asked Three-Aught-Five as they crossed the room to another set of doors similar to those of the living room.

"I've only eaten a bag of nutrition gel this morning and got another one during the medical exams, so yeah I am a little hungry."

"Man, you actually ate some of those? Well I can add another line to my list of reasons not to crash," commented Eight-Two with his upbeat tone as he opened the door.

The dining room was, at least in shape, an exact copy of the living room but flipped around to fit the symmetrical nature of the building. The furniture was also quite different, with one long table taking most of the place in the center. On each side, there were four regularly spaced chairs waiting in front of a plate, a glass and various pieces of cutlery. And between each of those sets were large closed plates containing the food the pilots were about to eat.

With the force of habit, everyone took place at their designated seats, the pilots on one side, the co-pilots on the other and members of the same crew facing each other. Having an empty chair in front of him felt a little strange to Eighty-Three. And even if he knew that Fifty was safe and being treated in the medical facilities of the Settlement, he still had the feeling that he had lost something while down there.

When everybody settled and the sound of the chairs grinding on the floor stopped, everyone put their hands together and closed their eyes without anyone giving any instruction.

And like the voice of a single person, they all started to speak the same words.

"We the pilots, who dedicate our lives to fight the enemies of humankind, would like to thank you, Papa, for this food you give us now and for all the tools you provide to us in our great struggle against the forces of evil and destruction. We shall put it to good use in the accomplishment of our mission and we shall not rest until all of our foes have been destroyed."

A heavy silence then fell on everyone and remained for a few seconds before they all reopened their eyes and started to take food in their own plates. Nobody talked as they started to eat, and Eighty-Three was glad that it was that way. While he was chewing on a small piece of meat, his mind had returned to his various troubles and he did not want to be disturbed.

He remembered the two bowls of vegetable soup that Frederic had brought to him. There was a sharp contrast between what he could eat every day and what Frederic and all the others had for their everyday meals. Everything was handed out to him on a platter by people he never actually saw while those outside had to work every day for only a few vegetables in a wooden bowl. Sure, the life of a FRANV pilot was one that needed a lot of energy, but for the first time, he felt like he did not deserve that much care.

Why were so many resources dedicated to that way of life that was so different from how the adults lived, while they could be used to give a decent life to all those living outside the Settlements?

Those questions where weighing so much on his mind that he stopped eating. And it was something that Three-Aught-Five noticed.

"Eighty-Three? Are you fine?"

Her voice made it clear that she was worried, and a second later everyone had turned their look towards him.

"Yeah, yeah," he simply replied before standing up. "I'm just tired. I'll go back to my room to rest. Don't worry about me."

Before anyone could say anything or protest, he walked away. The sound of the door he closed behind him resonated loudly on the walls of the main lobby as he walked towards the stairs and up to the first floor.

He had walked back and forth through the corridor that ran along the boys' wing thousands of times during the last few years and during that time, they had always felt bland to him. But now, he was also seeing the narrow space separating the wooden shacks. The clean tan walls, the soft carpeted floor, the painted doors engraved with code numbers of each pilot, everything was reminding him of what he had seen by how completely different it was. And as he stopped in front of the door marked with his code on it, his mind was both racing and tired at the same time.

He opened the unlocked door and rushed into the tiny room, quickly closing it behind him. Without much care, he took off his uniform and rapidly put on the light nightwear that was on his bed before falling down on the soft mattress. And unable to do anything against it, his two eyes closed almost immediately and he was dragged into a deep dreamless sleep.

* * *

"Officer Emidova. Bravo's flight recorder has gone through decontamination. We are ready to start analyzing the recordings."

As she entered the Operation Control Room of Settlement Twenty, Maria only nodded at the words of the controller before sitting down behind the main desk that was overlooking the numerous workstations and also gave a perfect view of the large screens that covered the opposite wall.

That room was the brain of all the armed operations that involved Settlement Twenty. In front of each of the many desks were all the people that worked behind the scenes so that everything was going well. Communication operators, analysts, weapon experts and others all worked together to get the FRANV in the air and give them the best chances of victory against the klaxosaurs.

As the screens turned on one after the other, Maria scratched her head while looking at the paper work she had to fill out. She had been doing her job for a very long time, but it was the first time one of the crews under her orders crashed and needed deployment of a Search and Rescue mission and she was a little lost. But she quickly tossed them aside on her desk as the final screen lit up.

"Alright, let's start with the audio recordings."

One of the technicians nodded and typed a few things on his keyboard. On the wall screens, a visualization of a long audio file appeared and its content started to play over the speakers of the room. For a long moment, the only things Maria heard were standard communications with the other pilots and with Operation Control. So, as all this uninteresting data went by, she gave instructions to get more information on the screens, mainly the position of the FRANV on a map of the area and the status of the various systems of the plane, all in sync with the audio.

Without really anything interesting happening, time felt like it passed slower than usual. But this boring part ended when the four dots got closer to the mark that represented their objective and the audio track finally started to sound interesting.

« Twenty Lead, Twenty Alpha. Visual on the target confirmed. Over. »

« Copy that Alpha. Continue the attack as planned. Over. »

« Understood. Initiating attack. Twenty Alpha out. »

As expected, it was leader of the squadron, Code One One Zero, who had handled all the radio communications with Operation Control. And even if they were included in the audio recording, Maria's interest was more attracted by what came just after.

« Look at the size of that thing. I thought we were going against a Class-A klaxosaur, not something that's two times bigger. »

The surprise in Zero Eight Three's voice was in accordance with the information she had gathered from the rest of the squadron during the debriefing. They all had expected a smaller target based on the intelligence they had. In fact, Maria had also been surprised by the difference between reality and the reports given to her by Intelligence and made a mental note to report it.

« Come on, let's do this fast and go back home. In and out, before it runs away. »

« Can that thing even walk? Looks like it can barely crawl. »

Maria chuckled, imagining Five Nine Four rolling her eyes at Eight Two Seven's remark.

« Let's continue by the book for now. Bravo, it's your turn. »

« Copy that, Alpha. We're going in. »

The dot representing Zero Eight Three and Zero Five Zero split off from the others who followed a trajectory to orbit around the objective. At the same time, information started to appear on the sections of the screen dedicated to the targeting and weapon systems. For now, everything was following standard protocol.

A few seconds later, they entered the final phase of their initial attack run and the weapon bay opened. What would have happened next in a regular situation would have been Zero Eight Three pressing the button on his flight stick to release the first group of HMGBs, Heavy Magma Guided Bombs. The payload would have then headed directly towards the blue target thanks to all their guiding chips being loaded up with targeting data provided by Zero Five Zero.

The problem was that none of that happened. Instead, the voice of Zero Eight Three returned over the loudspeakers.

« What is that? It launched something. »

And indeed, according to what was displayed by the radar, an object was closing in on the FRANV. And it was closing in fast.

« Bravo! Abort! Abort! »

One One Zero had barked this order, and Zero Eight Three's only answer was a grunt as he started to execute evasion maneuvers.

« It's still on me! It's still on me! »

« Get out of there Bravo! »

« I'm trying! I'm trying! »

But despite all the cries for help, the unknown object was still getting closer. But just before it made contact, the single object suddenly split up into many smaller projectiles that did not slow down. Truly, Zero Eight Three had no chance of getting away.

At the moment of the impact, everyone in the room had expected to hear some kind of grunt coming from Zero Eight Three, but that was not what came out of the speakers.

What did, however, was an intense female scream that was full of pain.

Maria shivered while a vast majority of systems started to display error messages or completely stopped working.

"Pause. What kind of damage have they sustained?" she launched to the analysts, trying to shake off the scream out of her head.

"A lot," replied one of the technicians, looking at more detailed information he had on his own screen. "The sensors have picked up twenty five different impact points all over the body, the fuel lines of the first engine got cut, the rotation shaft of the second engine was damaged, fuel cells three and five were punctured and most of the ammunition was hit. Many sensors also failed to pick up anything, so it's fair to assume that damage is greater than that."

"And do we have any idea of what that thing was? It doesn't look like anything they've used against us before."

Usually, a Class-A klaxosaur under aerial attack would launch small unguided projectiles that, despite their high speed, were easy to track and thus easy to avoid. But here, it was somehow guided, and they needed to find answers.

"Maybe they are evolving in a way," proposed another specialist on the opposite side of the room. "We have attacked them with guided weapons and missiles for years, so they might have learnt from us and found out that if they wanted to hit a FRANV, they had to follow it."

"And the fact that it split up in several pieces before impacting the target is very reminiscing of the old anti-air guided missiles that were used back in the day," commented a weapon engineer.

Maria remained silent, but her mind was racing. If those theories turned out to be true, then it would mean that not only were the klaxosaur numerous but also way more intelligent than expected. It needed to be reported to the highest echelons of the command chain as fast as possible. Quickly, she scribbled down all that information on a note pad.

"Alright, let's continue," she finally said after putting back the pen and focusing back on the screens.

The audio file restarted to play, immediately filling the room with a radio transmission.

« We've been hit! We've been hit! I have lost most systems and my copilot! »

« Understood Twenty Alpha. RTB immediately. All remaining units, continue the mission. Twenty Lead out. »

On the map, the three dots representing what remained of Squadron Twenty started to move faster, attacking the target with high speed passes and dropping one munition at a time instead of using all of their payload in a single run. But Maria and all the analysts were focused on the dot representing the damaged aircraft.

« Barely have any throttle response. Lost all yaw controls. Flaps are dead. Airbrake too. Almost all sub-systems are dead. Fifty? Are you alright? »

Maria guessed that, at that moment, Zero Eight Three looked through the small canopy mirror that allowed both crew members to make eye contact during flight. And she was not really sure if she wanted to know what he had seen.

« No… No… It… I'm bleeding… Bleeding out… Blood everywhere… »

The reply had been a panting voice that was struggling to speak through the pain.

« Come on, Fifty! Stay with me! Don't pass out! »

Maria could tell the precise moment panic started to appear in Zero Eight Three's voice. And even if she knew how the story ended, she could feel her heart tighten.

« My… My leg! I can't feel… Aaaaah... I can't feel it! »

«Calm down! Calm down! Everything's going to be fine! I'm bringing you back home. »

« It hurts! Aaaaah… I'm going to die, Eighty-three! I'm going to die! »

« No you're not! We're almost there! Stay with me, Fifty! »

« It... It has been an honor fighting with you, Eighty-three. I… I hope I made Papa proud… »

It was refreshing in some strange way for everyone in the room to hear that. Even when facing the hardest of challenges and risking their lives in the process, the pilots were still aware of who they were doing it for. The pilots were calling him Papa ever since they were able to talk, but for Maria, he was the chairman of the HPE, the Human Protection Entity. She did not know anything about him or any other member of the board, to the point she couldn't even tell if they were men or women. But really, she didn't really need to know all of that anyway. The one thing she knew, though, was that if he was pleased with your work, very good things would come your way.

However, her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of a large explosion. On the screens, more systems showed signs of important failures while some others had completely stopped working or sending data at all.

"Pause. What just happened?"

"By looking at the timing of the failures and the disconnections," started yet another analyst, "it seems that ammunition stored in the weapon bay detonated. This might be a damaged HMGB that sparked a chain reaction with smaller munitions."

"Are there parts of the plane that were not damaged by that explosion?"

"The thermal shielding near and around the cockpit worked as intended. The rest was exposed to extremely high temperatures and pressures, which caused the FRANV to completely dislocate."

"So no damage to the cockpit?"

"If we ignore the previous impacts, then no."

Maria nodded before turning back towards the screens. "Let's see how the ejection went."

The audio clip started playing again, and Zero Eight Three's voice immediately came out of the loudspeakers.

«This is Twenty Bravo. I've lost all controls and the plane's going down! We are bailing out! I repeat, we are bailing out! »

The next second, all the information related to the subsystems of the FRANV disappeared and were replaced by the one related to the subsystems of the ejection pod while in a corner, several videos appeared. Those were the footage captured by several cameras placed in and around the pod. The images of the exterior showed a blue sky filled with a rain of burning metal and a green ground. However, Maria was focused on the footage of the cameras pointed at the pilots. With the armored panels closed down, the only thing she could see through the darkness was the small blinking light of the emergency beacon situated next to the co-pilot's head.

As the clip continued to play, Maria continued to ask all the questions needed to understand what was on screen.

"Everything good on the ejection?"

"Boosters one to five were ok, a slight ignition delay on booster six, armored panels deployed and closed without issue and nothing wrong with the two parachutes," announced the technician dedicated to those issues. "Everything went fine."

Maria was thankful of all the work done by the engineers that designed the pods. She was not really sure how she would have handled two pilots coming back to the settlement in body bags.

Silently, she continued to watch the images of the flaming hail that was falling on the trees below as the last explosions of the self-destruction charges were ringing in the distance. But as time went by and the pod slowly came down, shapes started to appear under the vegetation. It was not really hard to understand that those shapes were old ruins of some abandoned village, and in her head Maria thought how lucky they were to find shelter so easily.

Not much happened until touchdown. The pod landed directly on the old concrete, damaging several of the exterior cameras. But she did not really care as she focused back on the video feed dedicated to the pilots. When Zero Eight Three finally unlatched and pushed down the panels, light finally entered inside the pod, allowing everyone inside the command center to see not only the pilot getting out, but also how Zero Five Zero was doing.

And saying she wasn't looking good was clearly an understatement.

Even with the limited resolution of the cameras, they could all see the important wound on her leg, making some cringe like they were themselves feeling the pain in their own legs. Some couldn't watch anymore and turned away their looks to focus on other tasks, but there was this form of morbid curiosity that kept them from truly getting the vision out of their minds.

And so, most of them welcomed the sight of Zero Eight Three performing the standard first aid procedure and applying a bandage on the wound.

"How were her vitals at the time?" asked the Officer just as, on the screen, the pilot helped his crewmate out of the pod.

"The last readings showed an important blood loss and a broken bone, but the bandage seem to have done enough to stabilize her for a while. The data has already been sent to the surgeons at the medical ward."

Maria sat down and sighed as she let herself fall on the seat of her desk, Zero Eight Three carrying Zero Five Zero out of the field of view of all the cameras that were still functioning. She rubbed her face with her hands as if she tried to wake herself up from a bad dream where the klaxosaurs had become much more dangerous than they already were. But her surroundings were still the same. The notes saying that contacting her superiors was of the upmost importance were still in front of her, like a grim reminder that the conflict was not getting easier with time.

But she still had to oversee the first review of the flight recorder data, and she was not expecting much from the several hours of empty recording spanning the entire night.

"Come on, let's get this over with," she said with a very annoyed voice. "Someone speed that thing up a little."

The technician that controlled the playing of the various clips acknowledged the order and pressed several buttons on his keyboard. And even then, there was obviously not a lot to see on the screen. The only thing that visibly changed was the shade of the picture that was becoming darker as the sun set down.

The night looked strangely clear to Maria as she could see most elements of the cockpit despite the surrounding darkness. But in a corner of her head, she knew she did not really know what natural darkness looked like anymore after so many years living in the artificial light of the settlements.

But she was brought out of her thoughts as, with the recording sped up, something quickly appeared and disappeared in the frame.

"What was that?" she quickly asked as the technician rushed to pause the video and rewind to the moment where they could see what this unidentified shadow was.

And let just say that she was really far from imagining something as close as what she was seeing, and the only reaction she had was a few words muttered to herself.

" _Yob tvoyu mat'_."

* * *

There was only a few rays of light coming through the blinds, but they were blinding to Eighty Three who had just woken up.

For a few moments, the experience felt surreal as complete silence was filling the small bedroom. No ringing from the alarm clock, no talking from the other boys, no one walking from and to the showers, no sounds of doors opening and closing. It was a sort of calm he had only experienced on the morning of the previous day while waiting for rescue with Fifty.

But this feeling disappeared after a few seconds when all his issues returned to his mind. With a grunt, he forced himself out of his bed, yawning and rubbing his face to reduce the blurriness of his eyes that were still asleep. However, it did not prevent him from noticing the small rectangular shape that was on his desk.

It was his personal communicator, a device that every pilot had on himself at any moment. Compared to the rest of technology available in the settlement, they were extremely simple. Through the simple touch screen, it only had the ability to send and receive messages, both text and audio. But if Eighty-Three were to believe Twos, there also was a chip inside that allowed Maria to know where they all were at any time. However, he had never explained where this piece of information came from, so everybody simply brushed it aside.

After simply tapping on it, the black screen lit up, revealing all the information that he needed to know.

 **10:12  
Tuesday**

 **One message by: Code 305**

 **"** **I brought you back your communicator that you had left in the changing room when we had to sortie two days ago. You are going to be alone this morning since the rest of the team is on a training mission. We should be back by the early afternoon. Take all the time you need to rest."**

In a way, he was grateful that the six other pilots had to leave the house empty for an entire morning. He needed to be alone and think about what was the best way to go from here.

A fresh shower later, he was completely awaken and wearing a fresh and clean uniform. However, as he was about to dispose of the dirty clothes of the previous day, he noticed a small bulge in one of the pockets. Confusion lasted for only a split second before he remembered what it was. It was the only physical thing he had brought back from the village, and it had to stay a secret.

And so, on the feed of the various cameras hidden all over the building, Eighty-Three simply proceeded as normal, dropped off the dirty uniform in the designated basket and returned to his room where he picked up another device that was sitting on a shelf. With it in hand, the pilot turned around, closed the door and walked towards the stairs.

The education of all the pilots started with simple songs and nursery rhymes, and most of them simply did not care about music anymore after a few years and more standard lessons. But it was not the case for Eighty-Three. He liked music, spending many hours of his free time listening to the records he could find in the small dedicated section of the library of the Garden. And after the first year as a true pilot, when all the members of the squadron could ask for a gift, he asked for a way to listen to more music when he was in the settlement. What he received was this device, even simpler than his issued communicator, with a smaller screen, a few physical buttons arranged in a circle and a cord to link it to a pair of headphones that allowed him to enjoy his music even if others did not want to listen.

As he went down the steps, he put the two headphones in his ears and pressed the play button to launch a random title out of the small database. Quickly, he passed through the dining room where what remained of the squadron's short breakfast was waiting for him, picking up a simple buttered toast, and stepped outside through the open bay window.

The cameras hidden in the walls and in the trees continued to follow him as he made his way in the forested area of the dome. He walked around for a few minutes, taking his time to enjoy the taste of his food and the smell of the flowers, before sitting down at the basis of a tree, right next to a small pond populated by a few fish. And all the footage they recorded afterward was of him simply sitting there, looking at the sky through the transparent dome while listening to his music.

But there are always things that a camera cannot see. A few days after first receiving the music device, Eighty-Three had accidently dropped it, causing the back plate to come loose. This revealed several ports that, at the time, he thought were not important. However, their shapes remained in the back of his head and the memory came back when he was handed the memory stick. After a few seconds of fiddling around in his pocket, Eighty-Three managed to pull the panel off again. Blindly, he looked for the port using only his fingers before popping the cap off the memory stick and plugging it in the music player. And after a few seconds, the latter vibrated.

Very carefully, he pulled the player out of his pocket, holding it in a way that prevented any kind of camera from seeing the memory drive sticking out of its back. At the same time, his heart started to beat faster as a curious excitement rose into his heart.

On the screen, text appeared. Text he had never seen before.

 **External storage detected**

 **Scanning external drive for files**

 **Scanning complete**

 **.mp3 files detected on the external drive  
Do you want to transfer those files to the internal memory?**

 **YES NO**

Eighty-Three moved his thumb next to the controls of the device, hovering a few millimeters over the validation button. A strange feeling had replaced the excitement, making him hesitate. By meeting with those living outside the plantation, he had put his head in the rabbit hole. And his answer to the question written on the screen was going to decide if he was going to fall down or not.

But what he was sure about was that he was not going to end up in a wonderland.

 **YES**

 **Transfer initiated**

 **Transfer in progress…..0%**

 **Transfer in progress…..50%**

 **Transfer in progress…..100%**

 **Transfer finished. Enjoy your new titles**

The text faded away and the screen returned to the page where all the titles where listed in alphabetical order. And now it looked nothing remotely close to what it was only a few minutes ago. Eighty-Three felt overwhelmed as he scrolled down the list, discovering names of songs and artists he had never heard of before.

At that point, he felt he had no other choice left other than pick a track randomly and discover what the music of the outside was like. And so, he pressed the selection button without truly seeing what he had picked. Instead, it was when the screen changed to display more information on the title currently playing that he discovered it.

"The Day That Never Comes. Metallica. Death Magnetic."

He whispered those words to himself, not knowing what they were supposed to mean, as notes started to play. They were played by what felt like a guitar with its sound modified to be higher and with a slight echo, following each other to create a basic melody that immediately caught Eighty-Three's attention. Then, after a few seconds, someone started to hit drums and another instrument added its distorted sound to the melody, playing longer notes that were complementing the first guitar. And while it continued for a few loops with small variations, he noticed that there was a fourth instrument, acting as a bass, playing alongside the drums.

He had never heard anything like this before. In fact he could not even tell if he had ever heard those kind of instruments before. But he was liking it. It was both soft enough to feel welcoming and distorted enough to feel mysterious.

And so he listened.

The two guitars were like fighting for attention at first, the distorted one playing shorter and faster notes while the other changed its melody and played alone for a few seconds. Then, the two merged to form what sounded like the main melody of the song.

And after a few loops, the voice of a man suddenly started to sing.

 **Born to push you around.  
Better just stay down.  
You pull away,  
He hits the flesh,  
You hit the ground.**

Eighty-Three was completely taken aback when the first words reached his hears. In all the music he had ever listened too, he had never understood a single word coming the voices of the singers. In fact, he had always believed that singers were here to simply convey emotions with the tone of the sound coming out of their mouth, just like the regular instruments of the orchestra they always were with. But here, there was no large orchestra, no rise to the highest or the deepest possible notes a voice could make. It was just a man singing words that Eighty-Three could understand, just like if that man was reading a poem directly to him with a soft, warm and welcoming voice.

 **Mouth so full of lies,  
Tend to black your eyes.  
Just keep them closed,  
Keep praying,  
Just keep waiting.**

In a very strange way, Eighty-Three related to the lyrics as he placed the words in his own personal context. With all his recent discoveries, he now doubted the truthfulness of all the words that came out of the mouths of all the adults he had ever talked to. And the only thing he could really do was sit down under a tree, waiting for his next orders and hoping that the people that lived outside were not discovered.

As he sung those last few words, the singer's voice became more intense, a little more like a scream, as the guitars regained their distorted sound and the drums started to be played more quickly.

 **Waiting for the one.  
The day that never comes.  
When you stand up and feel the warmth,  
But the sunshine never comes.  
No, the sunshine never comes.**

The main melody returned, leaving Eighty-Three to ask himself a question. What was, for him, the day that never comes? Maybe it was the day when the all the humans could live outside the Mobile Settlements without fearing for their lives. Maybe it was the day when klaxosaurs would not be considered as humanity's eternal foe anymore. Or maybe it was the day when he would find the truth that Papa was hiding from them.

 **Push you cross that line,  
Just stay down this time.  
Hide in yourself,  
Crawl in yourself,  
You'll have your time.  
God I'll make them pay.  
Take it back one day.  
I'll end this day,  
I'll splatter color on this gray.**

As the chorus played again, that last line stuck in his head. Maybe it was something he could do to bring a little more sense into his shaken life. But how exactly, he did not know yet. However, he was sure that by thinking about it, he would eventually find.

 **Waiting for the one.  
The day that never comes.  
When you stand up and feel the warmth,  
But the sunshine never comes.**

However, the music did not calm down at the end of the chorus. In fact, the repeated notes on the guitars and the drums were only announcing a sudden rise of intensity. The melody then changed again to someone different with a rhythm that was like jumping around.

 **Love is a four letter word,  
And never spoken here.  
Love is a four letter word,  
Here in this prison.  
I suffer this no longer,  
I'll put an end to  
This, I swear.  
This, I swear  
The sun will shine.  
This, I swear,  
This, I swear,  
This, I swear!**

At the end, the singer was using all of his voice. And even if Eighty-Three could only hear him, he was perfectly feeling all the emotion that the lyrics were carrying.

The guitars left their last distorted note hanging while the drums started to play faster. If the rise in intensity had been announced, now it was finally arriving. The guitars then joined in, in unison, with fast and powerful notes. But it did not last long as one detached itself from the other to play its own short fast melody, the rest of the band continuing with what they had been playing. He was still not really sure what kinds of instruments were being played, but it was perfectly clear that this part was here to showcase the skills of the player. And then, after the last minutes of fast and intense music, it stopped, leaving Eighty-Three completely speechless. He quickly pressed the play button to prevent another song from following.

He could only realize that his heartbeat had become way faster and his breathing was louder. In fact, he was almost shivering and out of breath because of a kind of thrill he had never lived before. And he was liking it.

It took him a few seconds of silence to put his mind back into place. He could not find any words to describe what he had felt, but he clearly wanted to feel it more and pressed the play button again.

And so, losing all sense of time, he listened to many other new tracks, discovering everything along the way. Part of them were fast and intense, others were slow and calm while some combined the two. Sometimes, he would understand the singer clearly and sometimes he would not. And wide was the spectrum of emotions depicted by those songs. All the music that had been handed to him by Frederic was like a sea he was slowly drowning in without any complaint.

But suddenly, someone threw a life jacket at him to bring him back on the shore, and this life jacket took the form of his communicator ringing and vibrating.

He pulled the device out of his pocket and turned the screen on, slightly annoyed by the fact that it pulled him back to reality. But after reading the text message he had received, he was not feeling annoyed anymore.

 **One message by: Officer Emidova**

 **"** **URGENT. Come to the briefing room. We must talk."**

"Oh no…"

* * *

 **Welcome and thank you for reading the second chapter of _Discoveries_.**

 **As this chapter is posted alongside the first chapter, I don't have really anything to add. I'm just going to say that I really want music to play a great role in this story.**

 **Anyway, see you in a few months when I'll publish chapter three.**


	3. Fixxxer

After each step, his heart was beating faster. Every time his feet were hitting the ground, he was getting closer to the briefing room of Settlement Twenty. And it looked a lot like it was going to be his doom.

When he turned into the last corridor leading to his destination, his breath was short and a cold drop of sweat was slowly rolling down along the back of his neck. By that point, he had lost all hopes of this summoning being harmless.

As usual, the door slid open without much noise and Eighty-Three walked inside with his eyes quickly scanning the room to see where Maria was. And the instant he saw her, he froze in place. She was standing in front of the large briefing screen. Usually, it all the information regarding an upcoming operation was displayed. But this time, it was completely different. There was only one picture displayed, showing a figure that Eighty-Three knew very well.

He did not have the time to gasp as Maria turned her head towards him.

"Good morning, Code Zero Eight Three," she said in a calm yet cold voice. "Could you please come over here?"

Without saying anything, he slowly stepped towards the officer. At that point, he was asking himself whether directly telling everything was the best course of action or not. But he kept quiet, his heart beating faster still.

"You wished to see me, Officer?"

His entire body was tense, and he hoped that his voice did not reflect it.

"Yes. In your debriefing, you said that nothing happened between the moment Code Zero Five Zero and yourself found refuge in the ruins and the moment you were recovered. Am I correct?"

"Yes, Officer." He replied to cover everything even though he knew that everything had been discovered.

"Yet, when reviewing the footage coming from the cameras inside the cockpit, I found this." She turned back towards the large screen and pointed at the figure. Despite remaining completely silent, Eighty-Three's body language was enough for her to confirm her suspicions. "Do you really not have anything to say about this?"

There was no answer. Eighty-Three was too busy trying to figure out what to say that he was not able to open his mouth. And this silence was enough to spark something inside Maria.

"What really happened down there?" She was not screaming, but it was clear that she was lashing out a lot of stress she had accumulated since she had first seen the images. "Answer me! I know you are actively keeping important information to yourself!"

"Well you also kept things to yourself!"

This reply had been spontaneous. In fact, Eighty-Three himself doubted he said it for half a second.

"What?"

Maria had expected a reply ranging from pure denial to a complete confession. But what she heard was completely unexpected. So she just stood there, not knowing what to reply.

"You kept stuff away from all of us. You never told us anything about the world outside." He continued, letting his own feelings take over. "This man's name is Frederic, and he was far from alone. He brought us to a place where a doctor was able to help Fifty. If he had not been there, I don't think I could have been able to keep Fifty from bleeding out in her sleep. They saved her life."

Maria was shaken by what she heard, and Eighty-Three could clearly see that through her facial expression that was far from the usual.

"You… You actually interacted with them?"

"Not just interacted… They hosted both of us for the night and we talked together with a translation dictionary. And they told what happened before the klaxosaurs. They said how the klaxosaurs started to attack power plants, how people had to leave their homes and how they survived since then. Without Magma and without fear of the klaxosaurs. You never told us about any of that. So please, honestly, do you know about all of this?"

The silence that fell in the briefing room was heavy. And that weight was enough to break down the rank barrier between the two. There were no Officer and Pilot, just two people trying to find answers out of one another.

And Maria was the first one to break. Without saying anything at first, she headed towards the station that controlled the giant screen. Even if he couldn't see what she was exactly doing, it was clear that she was looking for something. Something that was buried very deep within the archives of the settlement. And still, she had not returned to be who he had always known. As if his questions had triggered an irreversible change.

Then, she stopped and closed her eyes.

"It's not just that I know what happened before the klaxosaurs attacked…" she said before taking in a deep breath and reopening her eyes. "I lived through it."

This time, it was Eighty-Three that was taken aback by a truly unexpected declaration. But before he could ask anything to help him understand, she pressed a button and something appeared on the large screen.

It was a written document covered in an alphabet he did not know. But strangely enough, most letters were either the same to the one he used himself or very similar. However, something he clearly recognized was the picture sitting on the top left.

It was her. This document was obviously very old, but apart from the haircut, she almost did not change.

" _Voyenno-kosmicheskiye sily Rossii. Vosemnadtsatyy shturmovoy aviatsionnyy polk trokhsot tret'yey gvardeyskoy smeshannoy aviatsionnoy divizii. Starshiy leytenant Maria Viktorovna Emidova. Rodilas' dvadtsat' shestogo iyulya dve tysyachi vosemnadtsatogo goda._ "

Maria had spoken those words coldly. The words came from the deepest part of her being and obviously carried a lot of meaning to her. But Eighty-Three was not able to understand a single word of it.

"What does it mean? I don't understand."

She did not exactly reply. Instead, she continued with her same tone. But this time, it was far easier for the pilot to understand.

"Russian Aerospace Forces. Eighteenth Assault Aviation Regiment of the Three hundred and third Guards Mixed Aviation Division. Senior Lieutenant Maria Viktorovna Emidova. Born on the twenty-sixth of July two thousand and eighteen." She had read the document directly from the screen before turning her head towards him. She had a weight on her mind that she needed to take away. "I was a pilot too."

"What?"

"If you really want to know what truly happened, then I have a lot to tell you."

* * *

At the time, there were no Mobile Settlements, no HPE, no FRANV. Just humans living their daily lives and using Magma as their main source of energy. Back then, I was just a pilot. My squadron was specialized in air to ground strikes and was based near one of the largest Magma power plants in the country. After many missions, I had gained a lot of experience striking down on those that defied the interests of my country. But all that was needed was one day to turn it all upside down.

On the nineteenth of August of the year two thousand forty-eight, the first klaxosaur emerged only a few dozen miles away from the plant and immediately started to head towards it. After the confusion passed, we all scrambled to destroy whatever it was. Our regular bombs and rockets barely did anything as it continued to crawl to its objective. After a few attack runs, it slowed down. We thought that we were finally making some progress. But no. Instead, it started firing. And out of the dozens of jets that had taken off, only three made it back to base safely.

And I was not one of them.

A projectile hit my plane and I successfully ejected over the Russian countryside despite not feeling my right arm. I had to survive three days alone before I was found by a rescue team. But many did not have that chance. I lost a lot of very good friends that day. And because of all of my injuries, both physical and psychological, I was honorably discharged from the Aerospace Forces.

The only thing I was able to do at that point was to watch the world crumble as more and more of those creatures dug themselves out all over the globe. I was depressed and for years I just drank my pain away hoping this world would just end. I was in a truly disgusting state when the Human Protection Entity contacted me for the first time. They told me that governments had failed to protect mankind from the klaxosaurs and that they were the solution to that blue cancer. They were searching for people with experience and with a desire to take their revenge against the klaxosaurs. At first, I just told them to go away, but when they promised proper medical and psychological treatment, I just could not refuse. And that's how they got most people on board, by making promises to people that needed things they couldn't find in our slowly collapsing world.

Yet, despite all of their resources, I was simply not fit for flying anymore. So, with my experience, I was put in charge of one of the first fighter squadrons of the HPE. At first, our objective was simply to defend the largest facility of the Entity from the many assaults of the klaxosaurs. We did not have much to fight with as most of our resources went directly into our Magma based weaponry. In fact, if we were able to make something fly and strap a Magma bomb to it, then someone in the squadron was going to fly it into combat.

And somehow, for a few years, it worked. As more and more governments fell down, the Entity was able to smoothly establish itself all over the world. People were actively defecting to join us. And when those people were engineers and researchers, they were always bringing with them what they had been working on.

At one point, we got two teams of engineers coming from the United States of America, the country of the old world that had the most powerful military. The first group came from Lockheed Martin and had been developing a jet powered directly by Magma. They got the contract from the American Department of Defense just a few months before the klaxosaurs appeared and the reduction of resources dedicated to research and development over time killed the project. The others had started working, still for the American military, after they managed to kill their first monsters. The autopsies, if you can really call them autopsies, had revealed that each klaxosaur seemed to have two separate brains: one dedicated to receiving information from the outside and other klaxosaurs while the other was solely dedicated to acting and making the entire thing move. And the American high command attributed the tactical advantage of the klaxosaurs on that. DARPA was thus tasked with applying what they had discovered to better the performance out of fighter pilots and vehicle crews. But again, a project carrying high hopes turned into a stalemate when there were no more resources to do research with. And who had resources in the apocalyptic world? The Human Protection Entity.

It was decided to merge the two teams into one single project under the lead of Doctor Werner Frank, an aerospace engineer who had only recently joined the Entity. They were tasked with creating the ultimate weapon to eliminate the enemy with the code name Project Moses. Yes, that's how the first FRANVs were born. Project Moses was such a success that Doctor Frank was immediately promoted to Head of Scientific Research.

And me in all that? They needed test pilots for the prototypes and my team had the most experience fighting klaxosaurs. In most cases, we were the ones to create new tactics to add to the playbook. So, we were the ones tasked to evaluate how effective it was. And it was indeed powerful. Compared to our jets, there was not a simple drawback apart from simple nitpicks regarding the size. Our approval was the only thing needed for to kick start the lines of production to mass produce FRANVs. If only we knew at the time…

* * *

As she spoke, Eighty-Three had remained completely silent. And despite all the words he could not understand, he had still been handed way more information than he had ever hoped for. Yet, he wanted more. Just like a reader wanting to read the sequel of a novel he just finished, he needed to know how all the loose ends were tied.

"When was it?" he asked with an unusual eagerness. "I am pretty sure the ruins I saw back there are not just a few decades old. Please, you already said so much. You can't just let me to hang like that."

"Guess this is too late to back off now, huh?" she said to herself. "But I must warn you. This might be something you would not want to hear."

But that warning fell on deaf ears as Eighty-Three asked another question.

"How long has it been since the klaxosaurs first attacked?"

Maria sighed and took another large breath.

"As I said, the first klaxosaur appeared on the nineteenth of August two thousand forty-eight. Now, it is the fifth of June twenty-one fifty-nine."

Eighty-Three froze in place. Those were probably the most important sequence of numbers he had ever heard, and he did not really know how to react.

"A hundred and eleven years?" was the only thing he could say. He was not doubting Maria, but it seemed so improbable that he still needed confirmation.

"Indeed," she said with a calm voice, just like she had trouble believing it herself. "I am almost a hundred and forty-one years old. Way older than what was physically possible before the Magma. With it, scientists from the Entity were able to create a serum that prevent the people that get injections from aging."

"How… How is that possible? I thought that we couldn't fight against getting old."

Maria simply shook her head before giving a real answer.

"To be honest with you, I don't really know either. However what I know is that it has side effects on the brain. It reduces the effectiveness of the hypothalamus at creating some hormones. For most hormones, the impact itself is barely noticeable and not dangerous thanks to supplements in our food. But even if locally the damage is small, if you add everything together, it was still enough that when the first side effects kicked in, co-pilots just could not connect to their FRANVs anymore. Problem was, at that point, every air worthy pilot was suffering from those side effects. It grounded the entire FRANV fleet and allowed the klaxosaurs to push us back once again. We needed new and unmodified brains. Literally."

Eighty-Three had wanted explanations, but so far it was only more and more confused.

"But then what did you do? How is it something that I don't want to hear?"

"Well the problem is that the hormones that suffer the most from the serum are the sexual hormones." Eighty-Three did not understand what this really meant. Before he could interrupt, she continued. "We could not fulfill that need for people that had not been injected with the serum. All the adult human beings on this planet had, and still have, completely useless reproductive organs. None of us can have children anymore!"

Her words echoed on the blank walls of the empty briefing room. For the first time in probably a century, she was feeling the frustration of someone being a victim of something she could not do anything against.

"Have? What do you mean?"

But she completely ignored him as she continued her explanation.

"The solution came directly from the Chairman himself. We had the technology to prevent humans from dying, so why not create other human beings artificially and train them from birth to handle the weapons we can't? It's quite ironic, isn't it? You pilots call him Papa like he was your loving father, but in the end, you are just as much a piece of military equipment as the FRANVs. The Garden is just an assembly line like all the others."

Eighty-Three could feel his legs weakening under his own weight. So much so that he had to sit down on one of the seats used by pilots in regular briefings.

"I… I… I don't understand… We are just… Hardware?"

"Yeah. We always tell you that you are fighting to create a wonderful world for humanity, safe from any threat. And now that I think of it, you probably won't even be a part of it."

For both of them, the discussion had been an emotional rollercoaster. But Eighty-Three was clearly the one most affected. There was no way he could have predicted that as things he had accepted as irrefutable truths had been repeated for his entire life. But now, everything was crumbling all around him. His own life, Fifty's life, the life of all the pilots of Squadron Twenty… None of them mattered in the grand scheme of things.

But Maria was affected as well.

" _Blyat_ ," she said out loud as she looked back towards the screen and her old file that was still displayed. "All of this is wrong. How could I convince myself that raising kids and turn them into weapons was a good idea? Fucking Werner… At least, you are all treated like human beings. A large house, things to play with and social interactions with your teammates and myself. And I've seen the progress the Entity is making against the klaxosaurs. Maybe it's just the best strategy and all of this will soon be over and we will all stop fighting. And I could also propose to the board something about you…"

She turned to look at the pilot to get his opinion but she interrupted herself when she saw him, laying down inside his seat, his headphones deep inside his ears and tears running down his face. And the only thing she could do was sigh.

She perfectly understood how she was guilty in this, but at the same time it was not like she had any choice. Now, she had to find a way to make him roll with it. And the sight she had before her was clearly not very engaging.

But before she could make a move, her communicator started to vibrate in the pocket of her uniform. Without even checking what was written on the screen, she swiped her finger on the device before bringing it to her ear.

"Officer Emidova," she coldly said to whoever was calling her, trying to hide her troubled feelings.

"Yes, this is Doctor Valentine. I am calling you to let you know that Code Zero Five Zero has started to wake up from her surgery. She is stable. But there are important things that need to be told to her so I think you should come to the medical wing."

"I understand. I am coming as fast as I can."

She pressed the red button on the screen to end the communication. This was a new burden on her mind, but in a strange way she welcomed it as it was going to make her focus on something else.

Even if it meant leaving Eighty-Three alone for a few hours.

 **Dolls of voodoo all stuck with pins.  
One for each of us and our sins.  
So you lay us in a line,  
Push your pins, they make us humble.  
Only you can tell in time,  
If we fall or merely stumble.**

And the pilot really needed some alone time. He felt broken inside, realizing how worthless he and all the other pilots were. To prevent him from completely falling apart, he was listening to the rough man' voice coming from his headphones.

 **But tell me, can you heal what Father's done?  
Or fix this hole in a mother's son?  
Can you heal the broken worlds within?  
Can you strip away so we may start again?**

It was making him think about Frederic and all the others in their small settlement. At least, they had treated Fifty and him like actual human beings, but the hope it created was small compared to his despair. And that simple comparison was enough to make him feel sick.

 **Tell me, can you heal what Father's done?  
Or cut this rope and let us run?  
Just when all seems fine and I'm pain free,  
You jab another pin, jab another pin in me.**

And so, with feelings constantly shifting, he just stayed there as the door closed behind Maria.

* * *

"Twenty Alpha, you are cleared to land on platform Zero One."

"Understood tower."

The sun was shining bright over the desolated landscape. Years and years of excessive Magma extraction had left little chance to the local ecosystem. Now, the only birds flying in the sky were three large grey masses slowing down to reach their nest.

The large structure of Mobile Settlement Twenty had not moved since the squadron had left earlier thanks to the cover provided by other nearby settlements. Usually, a settlement was always in movement. But when you have millions of tons always moving around in uneven terrain, deep maintenance is regularly needed. And pilots always liked those periods of maintenance as it made the landing procedure way easier than usual.

The general shape of the Settlement could only be described as a large dome of grey metal with the number twenty written all around it with extremely large characters. The base was slightly different as it was made of a cylinder, its radius just slightly larger than that of basis of the dome so that the flat horizontal surfaces could be used as hangar roof doors for FRANVs and other aerial vehicles of the HPE to enter.

As they approached, One-Ten could see three hangars opening and focused on the one he had been assigned. It was not long until specific data appeared in his heads up display as the computing power of his co-pilot's mind shifted towards landing.

"Thanks, Three-Aught-Five," he simply whispered before flipping several switches that made the large machine slow down even more.

At the tip of each wing, the engines slowly rotated to point downwards. The FRANV was now stationary, suspended in the air by the tremendous force produced by the Magma-powered jet engines. All the upcoming movements had to be precise, with margins of error of only a few meters.

With a smooth movement of the handle and light presses on the throttle allowed One-Ten to align the mark on his display with the pattern of colorful lights placed just in front of him on the wall of the dome. And when the FRANV lost all its horizontal momentum, the pilot progressively pulled the gas handle back, slowly reducing the power of the engines and allowing the vehicle to descend into the wide-open mouth of the settlement.

"Landing gear down," he announced after flipping one last switch.

Underneath the hull, several panels opened and revealed the large wheeled legs of the beast. The vehicle continued its slow descent until the rubber finally made contact with the metallic floor of the hangar. At that point, the pilot did not have anything left to do as he completely cut off the gas and initiated the procedure to turn off the engines. The hydraulic suspensions of the gears took over and absorbed the last bit of energy to completely stop the plane.

There was a second of silence in the cockpit after the engine turned silent before the voice of the air traffic controller came back through his helmet mounted radio.

"Twenty Alpha, landing confirmed. Stay on standby for jetway."

"Understood, tower."

After shutting off all systems, One-Ten was finally able to take off his safety harness and his oxygen mask as the mentioned jet bridge was slowly extending towards the cockpit. With his relative freedom of movement, he turned around to check on Three-Aught-Five. And before he could really see anything, he heard a yawn coming from the back seat.

"How is it going?" he asked as he watched his co-pilot undo her own harness before stretching.

"Fine," she replied with her usual comforting voice. "It's not like a lot happened anyway."

One-Ten simply nodded as a reply before turning back around, just in time for the jetway to stick itself all around the canopy. And the next second, the air traffic controller spoke again.

"Initiating decontamination. Stand by."

Inside the tube, several jets of decontaminating liquid started to spray on the canopy, washing off any unwanted particles and killing potentially dangerous bacteria. This took about a minute before the spray stopped.

"Decontamination complete. Twenty Alpha you are cleared for exit."

"Copy."

With both hands, One-Ten reached for the two clamps maintaining the canopy sealed shut. Those were pretty hard to open, but after years of flying, the pilot had gotten used to it and it was not long until he could push the transparent panel up and lift himself onto the metallic platform. He was quickly joined by Three-Aught-Five who slightly stretched her muscles a little more. Then, silently, both of them went along the long enclosed path, taking off their helmets in the process.

There was not much they could talk about in reality. Training flights were far from being unusual, but this one stood out of the rest by its complete lack of really interesting objective. And if usually the two would start to debrief a few elements on their way to rejoin the rest of the team, here they could only hear the sound of their own steps echoing in the empty corridor. And even when all six got together, nobody said anything. In fact, it was only when the pilots were separated again by gender in their dressing rooms that someone finally spoke

"Man, that was boring," said Code Two Two Two, taking off his tight piloting suit.

"You don't say," replied Code Eight Two Seven, already picking up his clean uniform from his locker. "I think I might have fallen asleep for a small bit."

"Oh it's not that you might have. You did. And for quite a long time. You know I can't pilot from where I am."

Two-Seven quickly turned his head towards his co-pilot with a baffled expression.

"Wait seriously?"

"Yup. You are lucky I just couldn't slap you awake."

One-Ten only shook his head as he continued to put on his uniform. He perfectly knew that the two would start ironically yell at each other until one of them drops a bad joke that would get them laughing. By reflex, he turned to see Eighty-Three's reaction to the scene, but his eyes could only see an empty bench and a closed locker.

His sigh was enough to get the attention of the two other boys who also noticed the empty space.

"At least Eighty-Three and Fifty got to avoid that snooze fest," commented Twos, tying up the laces on his shoes.

"Well I still prefer this over crashing and going to the hospital," replied his crewmate that had already finished dressing himself up.

"Yeah true."

Ignoring their comments, One-Ten stood up and stepped in front of the locker. Out of curiosity, he opened the metal panel. He did not really expect anything, yet he still felt surprised seeing that Eighty-Three's equipment had already been decontaminated, cleaned and brought in the changing room.

But there was something on the helmet other than the pilot's number that was far from normal. The cleaning machines used for the helmets were designed for regular mission by mission cleaning. And by looking at the few red marks that created the outlines of two hands in the position one would put his hand to take off his helmet, it seemed that those machines were not effective at cleaning away things really stuck on the surface.

"What is this?" asked Two-Seven, looking over his leader's shoulder. Sure, there was not very much of the stuff, but it was still very noticeable.

One-Ten simply scratched off a small red bit to take a closer look, and it did not take him long to give his verdict.

"Dried blood."

That seemed so ridiculous that Twos and his crewmate remained silent for a few seconds. But they knew their squad lead and he was far from being the type for that kind of joke.

"Wait seriously?"

"Yes, seriously," coldly replied One-Ten as he looked for any other trace on the helmet. "It is most likely Fifty's. He probably treated her wound before taking off his helmet. And the washing machine has not cleaned everything off. I'll tell him to come down and clean it before Maria sees it."

There was something unsettling about this. They had only been told that Fifty had been injured, but they did not know any detail about her wounds. If she had bled enough that regular cleaning could not get rid of all of it, then it was putting things into perspective.

But in the end, seeing how easily it had come off because of the scratching of his nail, he simply brushed it aside as something that would only take his teammate a few minutes to clean up. Silently, he put back the helmet in the locker and returned to his own to finishing dressing up.

When the three finally walked out of the changing room, they rejoined the girls who had been waiting for them in the corridor. Then, like at the end of every combat or training sortie, they would calmly head for the elevator, talking about the mission and other, more mundane subjects. But even if they were all eager to head back to their home, they had to head for debriefing. And seeing how this flight had went, they all started to expect the meeting with their officer to be on the short side.

Three-Aught-Five was the first to enter the room, and she immediately noticed Eighty-Three's figure sitting at the back of the room. He had been waiting for them, his headphones in his ears, listening to that same short list of songs he has listened to for years. But as she closed in, there was something strange about him. He seemed distant and lost in his thoughts, only slightly nodding to salute his friends.

"Eighty-Three, are you alright?" she asked, her voice clearly showing her concern.

The others had clearly noticed too, but they always left that kind of talking to Three-Aught-Five who had most of the experience by now.

"Yeah… I'm fine," he replied. But his tone was not fooling anyone, far from it.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes I'm sure. I'm alright. Just a bit tired. That's all."

Everyone simply nodded, but no one was really convinced by the answer. Silently, they all sat down to their regular seats and started to wait. Usually, Maria would have been waiting for them, but here the roles had been switched. So, without really capable of doing anything else, Three-Aught-Five bended over to whisper directly in One-Ten's ears.

"Do you know why Eighty-Three's like that?"

The squad lead simply shrugged after taking another quick look towards his squad mate.

"No, I don't. I'm not in his head." His reply had been distanced, almost cold. But that was to be expected of One-Ten who treated every issue with as much distance as possible. "Perhaps it has something to do with his crash. Nobody here apart from him actually knows what it feels like. Or maybe he's worried about Fifty."

The co-pilot could just sigh. She needed more information, but it was clear that she was not going to get it from anyone else other than their officer or Eighty-Three himself. As she started to plan her next actions, the door opened.

Silently, Maria entered and walked up to the control panel of the large screen and started to type in her password. But no one noticed that the door remained open. As if someone else was going to enter.

"Alright," she started with her usual professional tone, "everyone is here. Before I start with the debriefing of this sortie, I have a few words to say about Code Zero Five Zero." This was enough to immediately get the full attention of everyone. "She has been through surgery successfully and has been cleared to rejoin you. However, there is something that you should be aware of. Zero Five Zero, you can come in…"

Those last words created a wave of happiness that swept through her audience, even a small smile appearing on the corner of Eighty-Three's lips. But this did not last long when the girl actually entered…

Sitting on a self-powered wheelchair with one of her legs missing.

This sight stunned everyone. It was clearly her, there was no doubt about that, but without one of the two lower body parts.

"Hey," she simply say to break the awkward silence. "That's pretty obvious, huh?"

"What happened?"

The question came from Nine, calm yet concerned.

"I…"

Fifty tried to reply, but she was not able to say a word before Maria cut her to speak in her place.

"The injuries that Code Zero Five Zero has sustained have made too much damage. Despite Code Zero Eight Three's best efforts, the wound was deeply infected by various elements from such a long time left exposed to the outside. Sadly, amputation was the only option left."

"What about piloting? We are not going to last long if the Settlement only has three FRANVs for defense."

Maria nodded at Two-Seven's remark and replied after launching another look to Eighty-Three who still had not said a word.

"Indeed. While Settlement Twenty is stationary due to maintenance, Code Zero Five Zero will undergo testing to see if she is still capable of handling her co-pilot tasks."

"And the wheelchair?"

A simple yet precise question coming from One-Ten.

"We are obviously thinking about giving Code Zero Five Zero a prosthetic leg. However, it will require more extensive examinations and equipment that we do not have access to as of now. Do any of you have other questions? Code Zero Eight Three?"

The pilot simply gave a silent side to side nod, indicating that he had nothing to ask to either his officer or his co-pilot.

Strangely enough, he was the one, out of the entire squadron, that should have spoken. Yet he had not said a single word, and it was adding up to Three-Aught-Five's suspicions. She needed to talk about this to Maria.

"No questions? Fine. Now unto more regular matters."

The officer made a hand sign to Fifty to say that she could rejoin the others before making information about their latest sortie appear on the screen. And, as if nothing unusual had happened, she started to debrief the pilots like she had always done.

Nothing out of the ordinary happened during the debriefing itself. From her words, it seemed that the mission being long and boring was intentional. It was a way to test the crewmembers' mental endurance. After all, the second letter in the acronym of their vehicles stands for _Reconnaissance_. And it's true that reconnaissance missions were far from being the most exciting, especially after thrilling combat missions.

Overall, the three crews had done well despite their boredom. Maria still pointed out that she had noticed Code Eight Two Seven's little nap and that it was something that should not happen again. Not much happened afterwards, and Maria was quick to let the pilots go when she was done.

For a second, Three-Aught-Five wondered if she should really see Maria at this moment. But seeing everyone walking away, she shook her head and followed them, leaving the officer alone in the briefing room. She only caught up when they reached the elevator that immediately started to rise up towards their home.

"But how are you going to reach your room?" asked Nine, looking curiously at the wheelchair. "Everything is upstairs and I don't see this going up those steps."

"Yeah," replied Fifty while passing her finger over the small control panel, "we talked about that with Maria. She said something about having a second, simpler wheelchair upstairs with something to carry me up and down. But she also said that it could take time so I don't really know. Apart from that, I guess I'll have to do everything sitting down now." With a smile, she looked around so that everyone could see that she was fine. And when she looked towards her pilot, theirs looks quickly locked before he turned his head away. "Eighty-Three? Are you alright?"

"Yeah… I… Good to see you're alright…"

The answer he gave was once again unconvincing to everyone, but especially to Fifty.

"Come on, don't feel guilty about this. You did everything you had to do and you brought me back here alive." Despite the two being relatively far from each other inside the cabin, Fifty reached out for his arm as a way to really get his entire attention. "Eighty-Three… Thank you."

* * *

With a long and deep sigh, Maria let herself fall down on her office chair. Even if it was barely four in the afternoon, the day had already been long and full of emotions. Between what she had felt herself and what she had seen, it had been a pretty rough and tiring ride. And now, she finally had a little time for herself.

She welcomed that moment of calm with open arms as she closed her eyes and completely laid down in her chair. But still, there was something in her mind, an urge that was far from leaving her alone. And it was clear that she would not be able to really rest until she did that something.

In a way, her office was at the image of the Entity. It was large and cold but also designed to be as efficient as possible. It was in this room that she did most of her work and welcomed officials of the Entity. But even if it was her office, she had never brought a personal touch. The only picture she had on one of the walls being a squad picture of the four current crews and herself, standing at attention in their parade uniforms. But there still a place that was truly hers.

In the far side of her office was a large cabinet that contained the paper backup copies of all the important files she had worked on in the last few years. And because she primarily worked with her computer, she rarely used what was inside the cabinet. But here, she was not interested in the files. Far from it.

At the very bottom was a drawer that she had not opened in probably several decades, and what happened earlier during the day had created in her the urge to finally do so. Slowly, she knelt down and reached for the handle before stopping. She was feeling some form of doubt. Was she really ready to rediscover what had been locked away from her eyes for so long?

After taking a deep breath, she pulled the drawer open all the way with a single motion. And the instant her look laid upon the objects contained inside, a wave of nostalgia blurred her vision. All of those were relics of her past, relics of a time gone by. But out of everything, the first thing she picked up was an object that she had immediately recognized.

An old photo album.

By turning the first few pages, she had opened the flood gates of her mind and it was not long until tears rolled down on her cheeks. All the photographs dated back to her days in the Russian Aerospace Forces, from the moment she entered the flight academy to the final squadron picture before that fateful day. There were also many pictures of her own plane and articles about her old squadron cut directly from local or national newspapers. And finally, there were pictures of him.

"Vladislav."

Without really thinking about it, she had said out loud the name of the pilot she trusted the most in the entire squadron. And it was not just trust, it was also friendship. Even more than a century later, she still remembered the many evenings passed chatting and joking around glasses of alcohol at the bar of the airbase. But the picture also brought back memories that were not as happy.

She had watched his plane dive to make the first attack run on the klaxosaur. She had seen him being engulfed in flames when he was shot down. She had heard his screams over the radio. And she had called for him over and over without any answer.

When she was shot down herself, one strange reflex she had was to look for him instead of taking care of her own injuries. But with her wounds, the recovery team managed to reach her before she could have done anything. But in the end, when the wreckage of Vladislav's plane was found and formally identified, nothing remained of him. The only thing she had kept from him was a small handkerchief that he had lent to her and that she was never able to give back. And she had kept that handkerchief preciously between the pages of her photo album ever since.

"I am fighting for you," she mumbled out loud in her native tongue. "But am I really fighting the right way?"

Slowly, she closed the album and put it back in the drawer. Still shaken by the emotion, she was about to push it closed when her eyes stopped on one last element. A red shield shaped cloth patch representing two golden lions with an inscription on top, sitting on top of a pile of other patches she had collected over time.

"Normandie-Niemen," she simply stated as a small smile reappeared on her face.

She remembered when, during an official ceremony, she had met foreign aviators who gave her this patch as a sign of friendship. In comparison, the patch that all the personnel of Mobile Settlement Twenty, including herself and the pilots, wore on all their uniforms seemed bland as it was only a simple black circle with a large white number twenty in a bland font and the inscription stating the Entity's full name and its motto all around.

 **HUMAN PROTECTION ENTITY  
** ** _Pugnare, Protegere, Vincere_**

But before her mind could start to wander off again, a small beeping sound came from her computer. With a sigh, she put everything back in the drawer before standing up and walking back to her work station. The beeping was accompanied by a small yellow dial next to her keyboard that indicated that there was an entering communication. Rather annoyed by the interruption it represented, she pressed a small green button next to it and sat down in her chair.

"What is it?" she asked to the device with a voice that clearly showed she was not in the mood for more official business.

"One incoming video call," replied the robotic voice of her personal assistant. "Caller identification number is Hotel Papa Echo Bravo dash Zero One. Call is labeled as very important."

HPEB-01. The number one of the Human Protection Entity Board. The Chairman himself.

"Ah shit!" she launched to herself as she quickly readjusted her hair and rubbed her cheeks to make any trace of her emotional trip disappear. "What are you waiting for? Pick up."

The small screen in front of her turned on, showing the masked figure of the one who controlled the entire organization.

"Chairman."

In her chair, she was sitting as straight as she could be.

"Officer Emidova," replied the chairman with his distorted yet respectful voice. "How is the recovery of Code Zero Five Zero going?"

Despite the strange question, she was quick to answer.

"Everything is going along smoothly, Chairman. For now, she is restricted to a wheelchair, but she was released from the medical ward and has returned to the Crew Living Facility with the rest of the squadron. There have been no complications and we have already planned testing over the next few weeks. We hope that she will be cleared for action as soon as possible."

"Sadly, your schedule will have to change, Officer. Despite the crash of one of your FRANVs, this operation you lead was a success. It has granted us safe access to a non-negligible amount of Magma. We also received your initial reports concerning the potential evolution of our foes which will allow us to adapt our strategy. We have all the cards in our hands to start the final stages of our operations."

"What shall be the mission for Mobile Settlement Twenty, Chairman?"

"The last battle is coming, Officer Emidova. And everyone must prepare."

* * *

 **Hello and thanks for reading the third chapter of Discoveries.**

 **I think that now, the story is starting to get into shape. I feel like what I have written before was mostly setting up the universe and all the corrections I have made to the Darling in the FranXX universe. It is a lot of work to modify a universe based on giant sexualized robots piloted by teens in doggy style position so that it makes sense**

 **One thing I want to say is that even though I try to shift the context into a more military and realistic one, I am far from wanting to make a story that's only about war and fighting. What I liked the most in the original show were the interactions between characters while they were away from their mechas. Of course, that doesn't mean there won't be any action scenes, but I leave full out war for my GATE story.**

 **Anyway, if you have made it so far down, I'd like to thank you once again for reading. I'll see you in the next chapter.**


	4. Aces High

« Twenty Bravo, begin take-off checklist. »

It was a strange feeling to be inside a cockpit once again. The one I had sat in for years had went down in flames, making the familiarity feel uncanny.

"Understood Tower. Beginning take-off checklist," I said in the closed oxygen mask of my helmet that was still bearing what remained of the two hand prints.

There were many screens in front of me, each controlled by its own set of buttons. I reached to one of the smaller ones off to the side and pressed one of the small rubber squares. On the display, various confirmation messages appeared as the internal checkups were being ran. Electronics, sensors, fuel pumps… All of these were elements buried deep inside the complex machinery of the FRANV and out of my sight, meaning that I left the machine to check itself. After several long seconds, the last line appeared to confirm the lack of any problem.

"Internal check done. No reported issues," I indicated in my radio without any real emotion before proceeding with what I actually had to verify manually. "Checking elevators."

With my right hand, I pushed the control stick forward as much as I could before completely pulling it towards me. At the back of the vehicle, large rectangular sections of the tail rotated up and down in sync with the input. And it was not long until the voice of the tower operator dedicated to my take off came back on the radio.

« Elevators good. »

"Copy. Checking ailerons."

I then wiggled the stick from side to side, causing longer flaps along each wing to move with symmetrical opposition.

« Ailerons good. »

"Copy. Checking rudders."

This time, it was my feet that I used to activate controls as I pressed on the two pedals buried deep inside my footwell. This time, the parts that moved were along the vertical stabilizers.

« Rudders good. »

"Copy. Checking engine rotation."

On my left were two levers. The bigger one controlled the overall throttle from both reactors, but I was more interested in the second one. I disengaged the automatic rotation by pressing the button placed on top of the lever and then pushed it, putting the controls in various positions. By turning my head, I could see both engines at the tip of each wing, quickly rotating around their axis to reach all the instructed positions.

« Engine rotation good. »

"Copy that. Checklist complete. Everything is good."

« Understood. Wait for roof opening. »

Overhead, the two large metallic panels that separated the hangar from the outside slowly started to move away from each other, revealing a clean blue sky. But I did not have the time to look at the sky. Instead, I continued to press buttons and flip switches in order to complete the various tasks essential to a take-off that followed the book. A deep whine slowly started to fill the hangar as the engines started to power up, blasting air directly onto the heat resistant surface of the hangar floor.

« Roof opening complete. Twenty Bravo, you are cleared for take-off. Wind is heading one six zero at five knots. »

"Copy. Wind one six zero, five knots. Twenty Bravo out."

Suddenly, there was a rush of excitement as I put the engine rotation lever back in the automatic position and slowly pushed the throttle command forward. And in the moment, as my heart felt light despite gravity pushing me down in my seat, I did not realize that all I had done so far was the exact same tasks I had done so many times before.

The strength of the two magma powered turbines was enough to push the FRANV up in the air and towards the sky. My excitement was at its highest as my eyes started to see over the metal walls of the hangar. But it was not long until I noticed that something was wrong with the various elements of my head-up display. Most information had completely stopped updating while others started to act in a completely erratic manner. I was obviously confused for a moment before I heard the sound of someone breathing heavily through their teeth coming directly from the internal communications of the plane. It did not take long for me to connect the dots as I glanced up in the canopy mirror, only to see two painful clenched eyes between a helmet and an oxygen mask.

"Fifty! Can you hear me?" I asked even though I knew I would not have gotten any answer.

One after the other, every display started to turn off until the only elements left were the few tiny back up analog dials displaying altitude and airspeed. But before I could pull the throttle back down and bring the plane back on the ground, a powerful voice filled the air as if it came down from the heavens.

"We're losing contact with the co-pilot. Aborting simulation."

In the blink of an eye, all movements stopped and everything turned dark. I reached for the locking mechanism of my harness as fast as I could while the dome of giant screens slowly rose up from its enclosing position over the recreation of a FRANV cockpit.

Two masked members of the settlement's medical staff were quick to come and pull the canopy up after I had opened the sealing tabs. As I unlocked my breathing mask and unplugged the oxygen tube from the basis of my seat, the doctors started doing examinations.

"I have a pulse," said one of them with two of his fingers placed between her helmet and her neck. "No visible bleeding anywhere."

"I have a reaction to visual stimuli," added the other after he flashed a torch directly into her eyes. "Code Zero Five Zero, can you speak?"

"Ye… Yeah," she replied, much for everyone's relief despite her weak voice.

"Does it hurt anywhere?"

"No… I… I mean it's just that my head aches a bit."

"Understood. We're going to carry you to your whee…"

Before the doctor could finish, he was interrupted by the co-pilot herself.

"No. I can do it alone. Don't worry about me."

She pushed the man away and started to unbuckle herself as I lifted myself out of the cockpit and onto the stairs going from the elevated simulator to the ground. With a bit of difficulty, she did the same, using the edge of the cockpit as support to rotate her body and get her remaining leg out of the footwell and on the steps. Several times, the medical staff tried to reach for her, but each time she brushed them away, going down step by step while tightly holding the railings. I would have helped her get down, but I knew that if she wanted to show she could handle herself, she was not going to back down. So when I reached the floor where her wheelchair had been waiting, I simply moved it a bit to make it easier for her to sit down.

"Hey, are you sure you're alright?" I finally asked as she made herself comfortable in her seat.

"I'm fine. I… I just don't really know what happened. I did everything as usual, I checked all the subsystems, but when we took off my head started to hurt a lot." She lightly rubbed her forehead as if to rub away her headache before looking towards me with sad eyes. "I'm sorry, Eighty-Three. It's my fault."

"Don't say that. It's not your fault. It's not anyone's fault. I'm sure you'll get back into it."

We were so focused on each other that we did not notice Maria, slowly approaching from a set of monitors.

"Your nervous system has been heavily modified in a short amount of time during the operation," she started to explain coldly, startling both of us. "You will need to adapt to it. But it will take time. For now, we have data to analyze."

"Is there really that much to analyze?" Fifty asked in a slightly embarrassed, almost shameful, way.

"There is always data to analyze," replied the officer, this time with a smile to comfort the pilot. "However, the testing schedule has been modified. The next test sessions have been delayed."

This news was surprising to the both of us as we had both told numerous times how important those tests were and how the more sessions they made in a short amount of time, the better.

"Delayed? Why?" I asked, a bit confused.

"I will explain everything once the entire team is together. The others are still doing their own exercises, so go get back in your uniforms and come back to the briefing room."

We both nodded before walking away towards the exit while Maria returned to her monitors. And it would be a lie to say that I did not feel my heart starting to race again. I had a strange feeling regarding this upcoming news, and I was sure that my newly acquired knowledge would have an unimaginable impact.

* * *

"This is Charlie. We are at entry point two."

« Copy that, Charlie. Stay on standby. »

The two were glued to the corner of the closed door as the voice faded out of their headsets, both tightly holding the handle of their submachineguns. They perfectly knew what objective they had to accomplish and all the steps that needed to be executed in that regard. And they knew that everything was going to happen in just a few short seconds.

« This is Delta. We are at entry point three. »

« Copy. All teams, breaching in five, four, three, two, one. »

With all of his force, the first one gave a kick near the locking mechanism which was enough to send the wooden panel wide open. He then made a single step back, allowing his companion to rush in, barrel towards any potential hiding place, before following him.

The room they had entered in did not have much in term of furniture. A table, a few chairs and a clear lack of decoration were all they could see.

"Dining room clear."

In their ear pieces, they could hear similar callouts.

« Main hall clear. »

« Living room clear. »

Without stopping, they continued along the planned path and stopped near another closed door. Again, the panel was kicked open with a mechanically similar movement and the two stormed into the room.

Suddenly, a figure popped out from behind a counter. It did not take long for them to identify it as a hostile target, thanks to the distinctive shape of the rifle it was holding. And a split second later, it returned on the ground, several nine millimeter projectiles having pierced its chest.

"One tango down in the kitchen," the shooter announced as they both looked into places where people could hide to ambush them.

And yet again, similar messages were broadcasted.

« Two tangos down in the corridor. »

« Tango down in the bedroom. »

« Copy. All teams, regroup at point four."

This message was all the two needed to hear to continue their progress. There was another door in the way, but they had no need to kick it open as the lock was not engaged. The door lead to the main corridor of the building that had already been cleared by Alpha, so they simply opened the door and walked through.

The four other members of the assault party were waiting near the door to the last room they had not broken into yet. Charlie joined them and the next second, the team leader started to make hand signs to indicate their strategy. Everybody replied with an OK sign as the other part of Alpha started to set up small charges near key areas of the heavily reinforced door. All of this had happened without a word.

When he returned into the group, the leader started to count down with his fingers and when he completely closed his fist, all hell broke loose. Each explosive charge detonated, sending the heavy panel flying into the room, before several flashbangs were thrown inside.

One after the other, the non-lethal grenades detonated, giving them the signal to enter, guns shouldered. As they stepped inside, they could see several figures. Some were not holding any weapons, but there were still several hostiles. Still without a single word, everyone engaged the nearest targets, firing single and precise shots near the vital organs.

All of this lasted for a few seconds until the echoes of gunfire died out.

"Bedroom clear," launched the leader of the gunmen before reaching for his radio. "Twenty Lead, building is clear, over."

There was a moment of silence before a loud horn rang inside all the rooms of the building, coming from loudspeakers mounted on the ceilings. At this point, everyone relaxed, lowering their weapons and engaging the safeties.

"You finished this scenario in seventy five seconds," stated a female voice coming from the same loud speakers. "I have nothing to say on the first parts, but you have hit one unarmed target during the last breach."

"Who did that?" asked the leader, this time simply speaking loudly, knowing that all the dissimulated microphones would pick up his voice.

"From the footage I have, I can say that it is Code Five Nine Four that fired those rounds."

All looks turned towards the young woman who sighed and shook her head.

"Sorry. It's my fault," she simply stated. As usual, she did not say much, but everyone knew that she was scolding herself over her mistake.

"Mistakes happen. That's why we're training after all," commented Three-Aught-Five trying to cheer back up her squad mate.

Scenarios through the kill house were an important part of the regular training of FRANV crews. Coordination with others, adaptability and reaction speed were some of the many important qualities needed to engage the enemy on a real battlefield, and training in a fake building filled with cut-outs of targets that could pop from behind at every corner was the perfect way to work on those skills. There was also the added bonus of learning to manipulate firearms for emergency situations that would force one to use a gun. But it was far from the main point of those exercises, even after the recent crash.

"You got to be careful next time. Maybe run a few solo scenarios later to get back in the rhythm."

Like always, One-Ten had spoken in his serious tone as he slid off the magazine from the open bolt gun and closed the chamber, securing the weapon.

"Sadly this will have to wait, Code One One Zero," interrupted Maria's voice from the loudspeakers. "I have received new instructions for all of you. Come to the briefing room ASAP."

"Understood."

And so, they all left the kill house by going through the rooms they had cleared a few minutes earlier. After a short stop at the automated armory to hand back the guns and the remaining ammunition, they all traded the training suits, similar in texture and feel to the flight suit minus all the flying equipment, for their regular uniforms.

When they entered the briefing room, Fifty, Eighty-Three and Maria were already there. The large presentation screen was off, which was unusual as it would always display important information even before the start of a briefing.

"Settle down," said the officer with a serious tone that immediately installed a feeling of unease in all the pilots. "Things have moved faster than I had expected. Your latest mission has given the Entity access to enough resources to kick start the most important operation in the last few years. It is the kind of operation that needs thorough planning and practice, so we, alongside the squadrons from many other settlements, have been summoned for a LSTM."

* * *

LSTM.

That four letter acronym stood for Large Scale Training Mission. Under that fancy name was a rather simple process. Get a large amount of FRANV crews, put them together in one place and do lots of exercises to prepare for whatever operations had been planned by the highest officers of the HPE.

Most of the time, it was achieved through bringing several settlements in the same area. But there were situations where there was not enough time for that. So, instead, the pilots and their officers gathered in the only facility with enough accommodation.

The Human Protection Entity Research Center, and more precisely the facilities of the Special Weaponry Division which had, over the years, gained a very distinctive nickname first with officers, then with pilots.

The Garden.

It was the place where they had all grown up and where they had been cared for, making the name fitting for the pilots while most officers found it more convenient than the long and tedious official designation.

The squadron of Settlement Twenty had come back to the Garden for an LSTM only once before, several years back. Despite that, what they had to do to get to the Garden had not changed. They had to fly their own FRANV there, fully equipped with all the modules related to training, and be ready to receive orders at any time. Or at least it did not change for three of the four duos.

For a long time, Eighty-Three had thought that the ride inside the transport used by officers was comfier than the hardness of his pilot seat, but the last several hours had made him realize how wrong he had been.

The aircraft worked differently than a FRANV as a non-combat vehicle did not need the extensive and complex fighting equipment. It was made of one tube shaped body that flew through the air thanks to two large propellers on top of the frame, one at the front and one at the back, each driven by powerful magma engines. But if on the outside, the _helicopter_ , as it was called, seemed large and spacious, the reality on the inside was really different. Between the cockpit, the electronics, the light armor plating and all the other things needed so that the craft could accomplish its mission, there was relatively not much room left for all the cargo it usually carried.

And in that situation, there was even less space. A huge chunk the cabin was filled with various monitors displaying real time information on all the airborne FRANVs as well as footage from various cameras, transforming the transport into a small command post while the passengers only had uncomfortable seats to sit in on each side of the cabin.

There was not much to do while waiting for the flight to end, so Eighty-Three was grateful to have the earbuds in his ears, under the large noise reducing helicopter headphones, as he looked through one of the circular windows. At a safe distance, he could see the giant shape of a FRANV flying in formation. And it was easy to identify which was piloted by whom thanks to the large black markings painted on the side of the nose and the vertical stabilizers.

 **20A  
110305**

From where he was, Eighty-Three could barely see One-Ten's head, only a small grey dot against the blue sky. He was not used to seeing others like this without being in a cockpit himself and that made him a bit sad. One of the things he liked most in life was grabbing a control stick and taking it to the skies, but this was out of his reach for now.

Fifty was on the other side of the helicopter. She was still on her wheelchair in the small place wide enough for her that was not in the way, looking down on the landscape down below. She also felt sad, but there was something else on her mind.

Guilt.

If Eighty-Three had felt guilty of the crash and her injury at first, he had accepted that he could have done nothing to prevent it. But here, everything depended on her own capabilities, and it felt like she was failing everything. She was both failing others and failing herself.

She sighed, still looking at the ground. From time to time, something would break the monotony of the desert landscape. Sometimes it was a forest, sometimes it was a group of ruins, and the latter never failed to bring her mind back to the memory of Eighty-Three and herself, sitting against the ejection pod in the yellow lights of the early morning. She wished to be able to live through other events like that. But that was the only thing they were.

Wishes.

If everyone was deep in their thoughts, no one spoke up their mind about anything as if nobody was daring to start a discussion. Or at least it was like until a voice started to come out of the two small speakers of everyone's headphones.

« Squadron Twenty, this is Airborne Warning And Control System call sign Holy Eye. Do you read? Over. »

Maria readjusted her microphone before sending her reply.

"Holy Eye, this is Twenty Lead. We are hearing loud and clear, over."

« As of now, you will be under the orders of BluFor Command. Maintain your current course and stay on stand by for further instructions. Holy Eye out. »

With this message, the training mission had officially begun. Now, everyone was serious, ready to respond to any order coming from the AWACS, knowing that every move was going to be inspected later. But for a period of time that felt way too long to Eighty-Three, he felt like all of this was for nothing. They were still flying in a straight line and nothing was happening.

It was only when the voice of the AWACS operator returned on the radio and woke him up that he realized he had fallen asleep.

« Twenty, Holy Eye. Three bogeys on radar. Bearing zero niner zero. Intentions unknown. Move for intercept, over. »

A quick look at his communicator revealed that his slumber had lasted a bit over half an hour, which was a complete surprise to Eighty-Three with the constant rumbling and noise.

« Wilco. Three bogeys bearing zero niner zero. Moving to intercept. Twenty Alpha out. »

One-Ten barely finished his sentence before the three planes started accelerating and turning, filling the air with an even louder rumbling sound. And a few seconds later, they had disappeared into the sky.

Now, there were only the monitors that could show what was happening. For a long few minutes, the only things they could see were the blue of the sky, the grey of the planes and the purple glow of the afterburners as the three pursued the unknown crafts.

Or at least everyone was pretending that the crafts were unknown. In this context, the dots on the radar were obviously three other FRANV assigned to the opposition force, running their own fake combat mission.

Tension was quickly rising for all members of Squadron Twenty, fighters and non-fighters alike. But for Eighty-Three, who was now completely focused on the various monitors, the buildup was even more intense thanks to the drums, bass and distorted guitars playing in his ears.

They were playing loud, and they were playing fast. A perfect analogy for the three interceptors.

 **There goes the siren that warns of the air raid,  
Then comes the sound of the guns sending flak.  
Out for the scramble, we've got to get airborne.  
Got to get up for the coming attack.**

« Twenty, Holy Eye. Update from BluFor Command. Bogeys are confirmed hostiles. I repeat, bogeys are hostiles. You are cleared hot, cleared hot. »

 **Jump in the cockpit and start up the engines,  
Remove all the wheel blocks there's no time to waste.  
Gathering speed as we head down the runway,  
Got to get airborne before it's too late**

« Copy that, Holy Eye. Targets are hostiles. Moving for attack vector. Twenty Alpha out. »

 **Running, scrambling, flying.  
Rolling, turning, diving, going in again.  
Running, scrambling, flying.  
Rolling, turning, diving.**

Without trouble, the three planes modified their trajectory to get the advantage over their targets and maximize the effectiveness of the first volley of missiles, fired from beyond visual range. But after that, the distance between the groups would quickly be reduced and the dogfight would start.

 **Run, live to fly, fly to live, do or die.  
Won't you run, live to fly, fly to live.  
Aces high**.

« Alpha to all, strategy five, strategy five. »

« Charlie, copy. Target locked. »

« Delta, target locked. »

Despite the feed of the cameras inside the cockpit not being displayed on the screen, Eighty-Three could imagine in his head each pilot, their thumbs hovering only a few millimeters from the firing switches as the weapon bays opened.

And when the position of the formation was such that the combined powers of the three data-linked planes gave the highest hit probability, all Hell broke loose. All the while the solo started to play in Eighty-Three's ears.

« Twenty Alpha. Fox three. »

« Twenty Charlie. Fox three. »

« Twenty Delta. Fox three. »

Or at least would have, had the missiles been real. Instead, only the trajectories of the fake projectiles appeared on the head-up displays and the radar screens. Everyone remained silent during long seconds as the dots moved closer and closer to their targets. And all hearts skipped a beat at the moment of contact.

« Alpha, missed. »

« Charlie, missed. »

« Twenty Delta. Splash one bandit, splash one bandit. »

Maria left out a sigh of relief when she heard the voice of Code Five Nine Four before focusing back on her monitors. There were only a few seconds left before the targets would enter the range of the short range missiles, and with one third of the enemy formation already down, the odds of victory had drastically gone up. That kind of training engagements were always ruthless, and by looking at the way the enemy formation was changing to react to the attack while the destroyed ship moved away from the combat zone, they were very experienced. Every advantage was more than welcome.

This was the moment the real battle begun. A fight of maneuverability, reaction speed, short range missiles and gun bursts.

 **Move in to fire at the mainstream of bombers.  
Let off a sharp burst and then turn away.  
Roll over, spin round to come in behind them,  
Move to their blindsides and firing again.**

« Alpha to all. Strategy two. »

« Delta. Copy that. »

« Charlie copies. »

They had the advantage of number and the element of surprise. The formation split in two, with Charlie keeping one target busy while Alpha and Delta took care of the second one.

 **Bandits at eight o'clock move in behind us,  
Ten ME-109's out of the sun.  
Ascending and turning our Spitfires to face them.  
Heading straight for them I press down my guns.**

Or at least that was what was supposed to happen.

« I'm on his six! »

« Alpha, Fox two. »

« Watch out! He's on your tail! »

« Hey! There's something under the target. »

In the middle of the standard radio chatter, the message stood out way too much. Code Eight Two Seven, like all the other pilots, had been trained to adapt to any unexpected situation. But here, there was enough confusion in his voice that Maria knew there was something wrong.

"Charlie, situation report!"

« Holy Eye, this is Twenty Charlie! We have an additional bandit! I repeat, we have an additional bandit! »

 **Rolling, turning, diving.  
Rolling, turning, diving, doing it again.  
Rolling, turning, diving.  
Rolling, turning, diving.  
Run, live to fly, fly to live, do or die.  
Won't you run, live to fly, fly to live,  
Aces high.**

The pilot had not lied. Almost the moment he finished, a shape darted out from under the enemy FRANV. A shape that was both completely unknown to Maria, but also strangely familiar.

« Guns, guns, guns. »

« Good kill! Good kill! »

« Alpha, splash one. »

Even if they were now up three to two, the officer was more than uneasy when she reached for her microphone.

"Alpha, Delta, this is Lead. Go support Charlie! Quick!"

It seemed that the pilots could feel in their officer's voice that something was wrong as they quickly changed their direction to help out their squad mate.

« Charlie, take care of the new bandit. We'll take the other. »

« Copy that. »

Code Eight Two Seven and Code Two Two Two had not yet engaged the enemy, orbiting at a distance while they waited for their reinforcements. And that gave Maria enough time to look more closely at the mysterious craft.

It was largely more compact than a regular FRANV and, compared the large bulky planes, it looked way slicker with its canards, its inverted wings and its angled stabilizers. In fact, it felt just like a group of HPE engineers had a go at making a fighter from before the emergence of Klaxosaurs using the latest technology. However, none of the markings were readable, making identification impossible. The only things that were visible were parts covered in orange.

When his support finally arrived, Charlie broke away from its circular trajectory and headed directly towards the mysterious target to prevent it from interfering with the fight between the remaining regular FRANVs.

It seemed like the bandits understood the intent as they split up into two opposite directions. And Maria just could not get her eyes off the slick fighter. There was something fishy behind it, and she was very much doubting it would bring anything good. But she did not have the time to get deeper in her thoughts as the fighter moved to charge the FRANV head on. Its speed quickly rose up and it was not long until some of its part started to move in unexpected ways.

The canards and the stabilizers flattened themselves on the same level as the wing while the inverted parts of the wings folded inwards, only leaving one flat aerodynamic shape that was gaining way too much speed.

Things were getting worse by the second.

« Charlie, Fox two! »

The gap had closed so fast that Maria had not noticed that the two planes were already in range of infrared guided missiles. What she did notice, however, was that they were still heading towards each other head on, like an airborne joust where the winner is the one capable of attacking before the enemy.

The target suddenly changed its course, using an extraordinary agility to evade the simulated missile. Code Eight Two Seven left out a grunt as he strongly pulled on his control stick to initiate pursuit. But there was not much he could do to keep the bandit in his crosshair for more than a few seconds.

At the same time, Alpha and Delta were still engaged with the other target which was also putting a fierce, albeit more conventional, fight. And the radio callouts were drowning out the communication channels.

« Alpha, Fox two. »

« He has a lock on me! »

« Missile trashed. »

« Guns, guns, guns. »

Most of these indications were useless because of the powerful data link between all the copilots, but in this kind of high stress situation, yelling was to be expected. However, it was far from distracting Maria from the intense pursuit.

« Come on! Stay still for a second! »

Frustration was clear in the voice of the chasing pilot as he let out several gun bursts, each of them missing by a long margin. And that kind of feeling can very easily obscure your ability to notice important details.

Like how the target was greatly reducing its speed. What truly gave it away for Maria was when the wings reopened, the plane getting back its inverted geometry shape. And it was still slowing. Were they actively trying to stall?

And as if the pilot had heard the question Maria was asking herself in her mind, she immediately got an answer. The nose suddenly jerked up as it lost the last bit of forward momentum. The enemy plane was extremely tightly looping around the pitch axis, like hanging from two strings attached to the tips of its wings.

" _Chakra Frolova?! Blyat…_ "

It did not last for longer than a second, but it was largely enough for Charlie to come speeding past.

« Damn! He's on my back! »

Just like that, in the blink of an eye, the hunter became the hunted.

And seeing how easy it had been for it to avoid all the past attack, there was no doubt that Code Eight Two Seven and Code Two Two Two were not going to stay in the fight for long.

The various missile alerts started to ring in the cockpit and the pilot started to execute evasion maneuvers, but again, something was wrong.

They were not firing.

« I need support! I need support! »

« Just hold on. We have our hands full here. Keep it away while we deal with the other one. »

« Hurry up! »

Various alert tones were ringing loudly inside the cockpit. So loud, in fact, that Maria could hear them in the background of radio communications.

But they were not firing.

« Get off me! Get off me! »

At that point, it had already lasted for several few seconds. Seconds of frustration that, in a real live fire engagement, would have been seconds of pure fear and panic.

But they were not firing.

« Alpha, Fox two! »

« You got them. Good kill, Alpha. »

The officer's eyes darted back towards the monitor displaying the feed from the two other FRANVs. And what she saw was the remaining enemy FRANV flying level, leaving the combat zone.

« Twenty, this is Holy Eye. Target confirmed down. One bandit remaining. Engage and eliminate. »

« Copy that. Twenty Alpha, out. »

« Alpha! Delta! Hurry up! It's going to… »

But this time, they fired.

The destruction caused by simulated gun fire immediately cut off Two-Seven from the combat frequency. And as everyone acted as if the two boys were going down in flames, Charlie simply flew away, the pilot screaming out his frustration to himself and his co-pilot.

"Lead to all," Maria stated in her microphone to the two remaining crews. "Charlie has been gunned down. I repeat, Charlie has been gunned down. Proceed with caution."

And despite the confirmations from both pilots, she knew that her message was pretty much useless. They had the numbers, but they had already lost. It was just a matter of time.

« Copy that, Lead. Moving to attack the last bandit. Delta, strategy one, strategy one. »

The planned maneuver was a simple one, but it had worked wonders over the years against the blue monsters. They were two, there was one target, and being attacked from both sides at once is impossible to escape. Sometimes, complex solutions to complex problems are not the most efficient.

But sadly, nobody had the chance to find out if it would have worked.

Missile alerts started beeping as the target charged them with its ludicrous speed. Immediately, both FRANVs started evasive actions, trying as hard as they could to move into positions not reachable for the projectiles. The Gs pulled the pilots up and down in their seats as the many flaps rotated as fast as they could to allow the planes to perform advanced figures.

Yet, in the end, it did not matter.

« Twenty Lead, this is Holy Eye. Twenty Alpha and Twenty Delta have been shot down. End of mission order from BluFor Command. »

"Copy that. End of mission. Going to base. Twenty out."

After those words, Maria took off the large headphones from over her ears, liberating her head from its tight grasp. She rubbed her face, trying to understand what happened in the last few minutes. But at that moment, everything was just confusion.

She brought her look back towards the monitors, only to see the enemy plane pull up next to the three FRANV of Squadron Twenty. It waved its wings, covered with the orange markings normally reserved to experimental prototypes, before breaking off as a fair play salute from the winner. And strangely enough, it seemed that both crew members of that craft were keeping their heads straight forward, the pilot not even turning his look towards those he saluted.

There were too many details pilling up that it could not be anything else than suspicious, and she could only react with a simple whisper to herself.

"What the fuck are you up to, Werner?"

* * *

It had been a very long time since Maria had last treated herself to a drink. And she honestly felt that she deserved it. So much had happened over the last few days, and even the last few hours, that she needed a good hour to herself to decompress.

After their arrival, she had debriefed the three crews. Or at least she had attempted to. With that strange encounter, she was not able to say if them getting wiped out was a bad thing or just a reflection of better weaponry. And the pilots themselves did not have anything to add. It was too fast, too agile, too strong. So she had let them go to follow the rest of the protocol, with the meager consolation that they had at least managed to wipe out the more regular part of the enemy squadron.

And now that they were off to whatever welcoming ceremony the pilots had to attend, she finally had time for herself. The officer lounge was far from empty, though. Even if they had not gone through the same events, a lot of officers from various Settlements were resting on the various sofas after long and tiring flights. Some were chatting around warm or cold drinks, but Maria remained alone. Most of the faces she could see were unknown to her and she only recognized some because of some video calls between officers when cooperation between squadrons was necessary.

Not really knowing why, she scanned the room again before returning to her half-full glass of whiskey resting on an empty bar. The atmosphere reminded her of her days in the Russian Aerospace Forces, taking breaks between missions in the bar of the air base. She missed the times when everything was simpler and the fate of humanity itself was not resting on her shoulders.

But in her daydreaming, she did not hear the steps of someone getting closer.

"Hey, you keep flying like that and you'll die real soon!"

Maria immediately turned her head towards the source of those words, both startled and confused.

An Asian woman was standing before her, wearing the same uniform of Squadron Officers.

A woman she had not seen in a very long time.

"Naomi!" launched Maria, springing off her stool towards the woman with her arms wide open and a wide smile. The hug that followed was long, long enough that it attracted looks from other officers.

"It's good to see you, Maria. How long has it been?" asked Naomi as they both sat down at the bar.

"I don't remember…" replied Maria, scratching her hair. "Twenty-Five years?"

"Yeah, something like that… And I still remember how you scolded me back then, when missions got too hot."

They had known each other for far longer. Early in the conflict between the Human Protection Entity and the Klaxosaurs, at a period when the Entity was slowly but surely gaining support within the militaries of crumbling nations, soldiers were deserting in large numbers for what looked like humanity's last hope. And among them was Naomi Kubawashi, a young pilot of the Japanese Air Self-Defense Force that arrived with one of the last few Viper Zeros still in service. She was immediately assigned to Maria's squadron and deployed to the front lines.

As the years passed, she easily proved her skills and became one of the top aces of the squadron. It earned her a premium place at the top of the list of possible test pilots for Project Moses. And both women remained together until the side effects of immortality kicked in and forced adults out of the cockpits.

They parted ways when Maria became an Officer and was transferred to Settlement Twenty while Naomi stayed within the science division. They had come into contact a few times after that, but there had been nothing in the last twenty-five years. A lot had changed.

"This uniform suits you well," she commented to her former subordinate. "How long have you been wearing it?"

"Not very long. I have been named Officer very recently. My kids are still my first group, and they are still rookies."

"I see. Knowing you, you shouldn't have much trouble getting the job done."

The Japanese turned around and waved towards an Officer that was on the other side of the bar for a glass of Whiskey of her own.

"So far I'm feeling pretty confident," she chuckled after taking a sip of her new drink. "I mean, my squadron pulled up a pretty good fight against your own earlier."

Maria almost choked on her drink when she heard the statement.

"It was you back there?"

"Yes," replied Naomi with the same smile. "Looks like the student overtook the master."

She was obviously proud of herself as her smile clearly showed.

"More like the student got new stuff that is way better than the master's." Maria slightly leaned over to be able to have a more private conversation. "Seriously, what was that thing?"

There was another chuckle.

"You had the great pleasure to behold the Flying Reconnaissance And Neutralization Vehicle Mark Two Experimental."

"Well that sure is a long name."

"Officially, the acronym is FRANV Two X. But it feels weird to say. We had to come up with our own replacement."

"How do you call it then?"

This time, it was Naomi that leaned to make the discussion even more private.

"FRANX."

"Has a nice ring to it," Maria nodded. "So tell me then, what is this new toy exactly? Did our friend Doctor Frank made it just for you and your pretty eyes?"

The Japanese shook her head a bit.

"No… It's just that I stayed in contact with Werner while I was taking care of my squadron. He knows that the conflict will not last much longer and he feels like as soon as the last Klaxosaur is killed, the board will throw him out of his position as Head of Research. He kept telling me how he needed to succeed in one last enormous project to satisfy the board of the Entity and keep his rank."

"And I guess that big project is related to that FRANX thing. But I doubt the board is going to find a shiny new small fighter impressive. There's more to it, isn't it?"

Naomi looked around. The lounge was a bit emptier than when she arrived, and most of the Officers were focused on the table of pool where two highly skilled players were going at each other. They were alone, or at least alone enough for secrets to be shared without anyone hearing.

"I can't tell you much… It's just that he made quite a bit of progress regarding mind linking."

Those few words sparked up Maria's curiousness. The more she heard about it, the shadier everything seemed, and the more information she wanted to know.

"You can't tell me? Yeah, sure… Out of all the Officers in this God damn Entity, I'm probably the one Werner trusts the most. I assure you that you can tell me. Besides, it's not like there are foreign spies or something…"

"Look… If people find out I've been spreading around classified info, I'll get into real trouble."

"Come on. If his prototype is able to take down three FRANV in less than five minutes, I doubt it would be very long until he makes the news public to us anyway."

"I guess you're right," Naomi sighed. "But I can't say everything though. You'll owe me a pretty big service."

"Alright. I can live with that."

Naomi checked one last time before whispering into her fellow Officer's ear.

"He's managed to link the pilot's mind to the plane for the controls and stuff. We've been testing it out for the last months and it's by far the most effective way of piloting."

Silence.

"Shit… Really?"

"Yup. That bastard actually did it."

"But how? I thought we did not have enough computing power during Project Moses."

Naomi sighed, shaking her head in disapproval.

"I've told you too much. If Werner discovers that I said even the simplest detail, I would get in serious trouble."

At that point, Maria knew that she would not get any more information from her friend of old and kept quiet as she raised her wrist to look at the time.

"Looks like I only have a few minutes left before I need to go do something," she said as an attempt to subtly end the conversation on a friendly note.

"Well I have things to do too," replied Naomi as she stood up from her stool and hugged her former superior goodbye. "It's been a pleasure chatting with you again."

"Same here, Naomi. Take care of yourself." The younger officer started to walk away, but Maria suddenly felt like she needed to ask one last question. "By the way, how's Hachi?"

"He's fine" was the simple answer she got before the figure disappeared through the door of the lounge, leaving Maria alone on her stool with her glass of whiskey.

Werner was hiding things from her, and she did not like that. She had to go and gather her own intelligence herself. After quickly chugging down what was left of her glass, she pulled out the communicator from her pocket and quickly unlocked it. She already had an idea on where to start.

A small smile appeared on the side of her mouth when she opened up one of the many screenshots of training footage she had kept with herself and looked at the visible markings on the sides of the FRANX.

 **13X  
016002**

* * *

 **Hello thanks for reading the fourth chapter of Discoveries.**

 **Great to finally go forward with the events of the story. If last chapter mainly set up the rails, this one sent the train out on its way in my opinion. Of course, I already know what will happen nex and I'm sure you'll all have a great time following this story.**

 **Again, a huge thanks to my friend SpaceFox who did the beta reading for this chapter.**

 **Anyway, thank you all for reading and I'll see you in the next chapter.**


	5. Disposable Heroes

It had been a very long time since they had last seen so many pilots and co-pilots gathered in one single place. The entirety of the manpower deployed for the training exercise was in one room, all standing in a clear and ordered way. But Fifty and Eighty-Three, standing side by side behind One-Ten and Three-Aught-Five, were far from being comfortable. The wheelchair was standing out in the middle of the formation. Even if all the pilots were keeping their heads straight towards the front, both of them could feel the looks coming towards them.

The ceremony hall had been designed with this kind of events in mind. It was large enough to fit an important number of people in front of a stage. High on the walls were stands to give the adults living in the facility a chance to witness important events. On this day, the stage was completely empty. But behind it, all over the wall, a large screen had been displaying the emblem of the Human Protection Entity.

After a long wait that felt like it would never end, a small group of important staff members of the Entity entered the stage. Due to the nature of the facility, they were mainly highly ranked members of the research division and officers participating in the organization of the exercise. Among them was an extremely distinctive figure. With his short height and messy grey hair, Doctor Frank stood out from the rest. It was a strange feeling for all the pilots to stand in front of the man behind the FRANV, but Eighty-Three could not think about anything other than the fact this man, along with all the other on the stage, had lived for more than a hundred years.

None of them said anything. Instead, all focus turned towards the screen as the emblem disappeared. It was replaced by a large figure that needed no introduction. Like a single person, all the pilots raised their right fist near their heart to salute their masked leader.

"My daughters, my sons," started a heavy voice through the many loudspeakers placed all over the room, "I welcome you back to your home. Unfortunately, due to unforeseen events, I cannot have the pleasure to greet you here myself. It truly saddens me. However, through my screen, I can see all of you gathered, and it fills my heart with pride. I can see your dedication and the will to better yourselves, for our mission will never be easy and our enemy is constantly evolving. Only your sacrifice will allow humanity to raise itself out of these dark times and into a golden age of prosperity. You must be prepared to face all the situations and to fight all the foes. This is why you have been called for this important training exercise. Our next objective, if it is a success, will result in the most important turnaround of our struggle. You will be all asked to accomplish a precise mission, and you shall train thoroughly to be sure of your success. But do not do it for me nor for your officers. Do it for all of humanity. But words will not have any effects if they are not followed by actions. I will leave you between the hands of all the staff present on this stage. Do as they say, and things will go as planned. For humanity…"

"We shall fight, we shall protect and we shall win."

The crowd completed the words of their leader with a single voice. This motto revolved around the main three pillars on which the Entity had been built on. Or at least that was what they had been told.

The more he paid attention, the more Eighty-Three could see the evidence that they had all been lied to during their entire lives. All members of the board of the Entity had always appeared while wearing complex masks, meaning that their identity had always remained a well-guarded secret. But most importantly, nobody had ever seen Papa directly.

It was only through those kinds of broadcasted messages that he communicated with his so-called children, always telling morals about struggle, sacrifice and how they all were the greatest heroes humanity had ever known. But with his new knowledge, everything was more and more suspicious. All around him, people were looking up to him as a benevolent leader that leads Humanity in its fight for survival. Eighty-Three's eyes were seeing something completely different.

In the Garden, there was a large outdoor area for pilots to get a breath of fresh air. And between the bushes, the trees and the ponds sat a sculpture. From its huge base rose four spires, like trails following a standard formation for a group of four aircrafts. However, the trail directly to the right of the would-be flight lead suddenly broke away from the group and faded away while the other continued. And on the base was engraved a sentence in large letters.

 **As the fight goes on, may the missing always be remembered**

It was followed by a list. A list of numbers. A list of all the pilots that never came back to their settlements.

The fact that Fifty's code, and even his own, could have been engraved on that monument had sent shivers down his spine. But what was more chilling was that, due to its isolated location within the park, hardly anyone passed by the monument. And in the end, nobody knew the numbers engraved in the stone. The position of the memorial was defeating its own purpose, and those that had decided to put it there were probably fully aware.

What it meant to Eighty-Three was that despite every speech in which their heroism was mentioned, in the end they would all be forgotten. All the pilots of the Entity were disposable heroes that replaced the pilots from the past and would be replaced by the pilots of the future.

One of the officers on stage made a step forward and started his own speech to all the pilots. Thanks to concealed microphones, Eighty-Three had no trouble hearing him. However, what he actually understood was vastly different from all the other pilots. The words only were a façade, and he could perfectly see what was behind.

 **Back to the front!**  
 **You will do what I say, when I say,**  
 **Back to the front!**  
 **You will die when I say, you must die.**  
 **Back to the front!**  
 **You coward.**  
 **You servant.**  
 **You blind man.**

Like Maria had said, FRANV crews were just pieces of hardware that did not have more value than the machines they piloted in the eyes of those high up in the command chain. Eighty-Three still remembered some of the very first lessons he was taught when he was still very young. All life is important and worth protecting. And it was only now that he noticed the irony. Not only was the objective of the Entity the complete eradication of an entire species, it was also ready to artificially produce human beings and sacrifice them on the battlefield with no remorse.

 **Life planned out before my birth, nothing could I say.**  
 **Had no chance to see myself, molded day by day.**  
 **Looking back I realize, nothing have I done.**  
 **Left to die with only friend,**  
 **Alone I clench my gun.**

But as he silently questioned the authority and the motives of the Entity, a strange feeling started to build up in his heart. It was making him question himself. What was he in reality? Were all the moments spent with his squadmates worthless? How similar was his life to one of the pilots from other Settlements? So many questions and so many answers he did not have.

 **Soldier boy, made of clay,**  
 **Now an empty shell.**  
 **Twenty one, only son,**  
 **But he served us well.**  
 **Bred to kill, not to care.**  
 **Do just as we say.**  
 **Finished here, greetings death.**  
 **He's yours to take away.**

And while Eighty-Three was lost in his thoughts, the officer finished his speech.

"We will start training tomorrow with small scale sorties to train squad-to-squad cooperation. The scope will be progressively widened so that, by the end of this exercise, you will all be able to perform a full scale simulation of our upcoming operation. I have nothing to add. You are all dismissed."

At those words, the large group of pilots started to leave the ceremony hall in an orderly fashion, each squadron waiting for its turn. Now, Eighty-Three needed some time alone to think. Oh he sure knew he was going to do something.

He just needed to know what.

* * *

 **AUDIO FILE ID WF-205907301458**

" _Start recording. Date is July thirtieth, twenty fifty-nine. Fifteen hundred hours. Human Protection Entity Research Center, observation deck of hangar five. I am currently waiting for Officer Emidova. She has been transferred to the newly formed experimental squadron and she will be involved with testing of all upcoming prototypes. And the sooner we manage to get one in the air, the better. Project Moses is a race against time as I doubt that mounting Magma bombs on old pieces of kerosene-burning junk will remain effective for very long. For now, all in lab tests for the engines and the airframe have yielded positive results and we are clearly ahead of schedule. But weapon development would not be weapon development if there wasn't a big issue hiding somewhere, waiting to blow in everyone's faces at the worst possible time. I just hope, for her sake as well as for mine, that the test pilots she is going to bring me will be up to the task for what they will have to do._ "

[Door opening]

" _Doctor Frank?_ "

" _Ah! Officer Emidova. You are finally here. I am Doctor Werner Frank, head of Project Moses. You have been assigned to this project to command the test pilots. If I am correct, you have not been briefed yet on the project._ "

" _Yes, sir._ "

" _Then come over here by the window. The shutters might be closed, but you must see what is behind it. Also, before we start, do you have any issues with being recorded?_ "

" _Uh… No, sir._ "

" _Good. Now, behold._ "

[Shutters opening]

" _Officer Emidova, this is the first prototype to come out of Project Moses. For now, it is only equipped with the systems needed for flight._ "

" _It's enormous._ "

" _It has a wingspan equivalent to three Raptors put side by side and each of the engines mounted at the tip of each wing are twice as powerful as engines of a B-2 bomber. However, as impressive as those numbers are, they are not the point. Each part has already been thoroughly tested. You and your men are here for something different which is thousands of times more important. The mind-link._ "

" _I beg your pardon?_ "

" _Mind-link. I'll explain more simply. You were a fighter pilot, right?_ "

" _Yes, sir. In the Russian Aerospace Forces._ "

" _So you know the tasks handled by a Weapon Systems Officer._ "

" _Yes, sir. Mainly handling weapons of the aircraft as well as its detection systems._ "

" _Exactly. However, between the moment an event happens and the moment the information reaches the brain, there are delays due to conversions by sensors, calculations, displays and human reaction time. With the mind-link, we are hoping to cut this delay by linking the Weapon Systems Officer's brain to the onboard computer. CPUs and motherboards can do things better than the human brain and vice versa. By combining the two directly, we are expecting a sharp increase in combat effectiveness._ "

" _Is this really possible? With all due respect, sir, I don't think…_ "

" _This has been worked on for much longer than you might think, Officer. Millions of dollars had already been spent by the US Department of Defense and Lockheed before any of the scientists linked to this project joined the Entity. During the last few years, we went through extensive testing on mice and monkeys. You would not have been called here if we were not sure about starting tests on human subjects. You must also understand that each pair of pilots that will undergo testing must have great synergy to make sure everything functions correctly. Do you think you can find people that fit this description?_ "

" _There are, sir. Captain Kubawashi and Lieutenant Kanawara. Both are former Japanese Air Self-Defense Force and they have been working together for a very long time. The Captain is clearly the best pilot of the two, but the Lieutenant's way of analyzing situations make it so they complete each other in combat. They have more kills than the rest of the squadron combined. I have no doubt they will be able to accomplish whatever task you ask them to do._ "

" _Great. All the additional details you need to be aware of have been put down in the file on the table. I also want to have a few words with the two pilots you mentioned as soon as possible to assess their capability of handling such a project._ "

" _Understood, sir._ "

" _And one last thing, Officer._ "

" _Yes, sir?_ "

" _You really need to understand how important Project Moses is for the survival of human kind. Failure will never be a possibility. Got it?_ "

" _Understood, sir._ "

" _Well I will not keep you here any longer. Goodbye, Officer._ "

" _Sir._ "

[Door opening]

[Sigh]

" _It might be foolish, but let's pray that everything goes smoothly from now on._ "

* * *

The door silently slid out of the way, revealing the office of one of the most important members of the Human Protection Entity. Compared to her own in Settlement Twenty, everything was larger. The space, the furniture, the windows and the view on the outside world. As if there were no glass, one could see most of the facilities of the Research Center. It was one of the few locations on the planet that allowed for permanent human habitat thanks to the thick defense network of Settlements patrolling all around the facility. And the Entity really made the most out of the dozen of buildable square kilometers it had access to. With buildings, roads, factories and warehouses, it looked like the miniature version of a city from the old times.

"Oh, Officer Emidova. Please come in."

She was greeted by a small man, standing up from behind his desk to welcome her.

"Doctor," she coldly replied, snapping into a salute while he approached.

"Oh don't bother with all of this. We've worked together before, so call me Werner. I hope you won't feel uncomfortable if I call you Maria."

She was definitively not expecting that level of friendliness. From her memories and what Naomi had told her, she had prepared to see a cold man deep in his work to keep his current position.

"Uh… No, sir… Uh I mean…"

Werner chuckled before inviting her to sit in one of the large sofas that surrounded a small table.

"Do you want anything to drink?" he asked as she sat down.

"Is coffee an option?"

"Of course."

As Werner started to open up some cabinets and drawers, Maria looked back through the window. In the distance, there was a flight of four FRANVs heading back towards one of the runways. Because of the sedentary nature of the location, the Research Facility could actually host permanent runways which made landing procedures simpler for everybody involved.

Each ship changed its trajectory to fit its assigned hold pattern. And when the wheels of the first one touched the black tarmac, the Doctor finally put down a tray with two cups of coffee on the table.

"So, Maria, what brings you to me? It has been such a long time since I last had a real conversation."

She reached for her cup and brought it to her lips. After a quick blow to dissipate the heat, she took a sip. The moment the liquid touched her tongue, she knew that this coffee was actually made from real beans and not the synthesized drink had access to in the Settlement.

"I have questions, Werner."

"Questions, eh? Usually, people come here with orders."

"Aircraft number One Three X-Ray," she simply stated as she put down the cup on the table.

"Oh… Already going towards the hot topic I see," laughed Werner as he drank from his own cup.

"What is it?"

The doctor took his time to finish his drink before answering Maria's simple but meaningful question.

"Just the dawn of a new generation of FRANVs," he simply stated, leaning back into his comfortable seat. "We have been relying on the current generation of aircrafts for over ninety years and a thorough redesign was seriously needed. I mean the last upgrade packages for the current FRANVs are almost three decades old."

"And you are going back to small scale fighters to do it?"

This was the most obvious detail. The size was so different from the regular fighting vehicles that without an explanation, this decision seemed completely crazy.

"I received some of the data regarding how one of your craft got shot down a week ago. Do you know what allowed the Klaxosaurs to bring that plane down? Maneuverability and speed. Code Zero Eight Three could not get this projectile off their tail and they were hit. This is what we are trying to solve with the Mark Two."

Of course, he did not say anything related to the complete mind-link Naomi had talked about. But asking him directly would not have gotten her nay results. In fact, she was not even supposed to know a single detail about this new fighter. For now, she could only keep asking questions and hope for him to slip a word that could get her on the topic.

"Is having an agile machine really worth reducing the payload?"

"You would be surprised if I told you how much damage we can make with miniaturized missiles if we strike at the right location. In a way, it's the same thing for fuel. A Mark Two might carry a lot less fuel, but the new engines are also way more efficient. We have increased the energy output from a single liter of refined Magma by more than twenty percent."

He continued like that for several minutes, explaining in detail the advantages of the design choices that had been made. The inverted wings, the variable geometry, the canards, the flat profile at high speeds, the CATOBAR system for launches from Settlements… Everything but the mind-link. At least, Maria could be sure of one thing. Werner was passionate about this entire project and had invested a lot of himself in it.

"But won't such drastic changes require completely different training for the pilots that are so used to the FRANVs?"

She had laid down the perfect bait. Now she only needed the fish to catch it.

"Well we are actually not planning to transition any of the pilots of the current models to the Mark Two. Many of our test pilots completely failed to adapt and only a few could manage to fly it in a relatively consistent way."

"From what I've seen, I can only guess that you have found the perfect duo then."

Werner chuckled again before downing what remained of his drink. At the corner of his mouth had appeared a smile, uncanny for someone supposedly desperate to impress his hierarchy.

"Oh yes we indeed have. They really are capable of making the most of what we give them. And in a way this is what I asked you to come here. How were they?"

Maria was a bit confused by the question. She finished her coffee, trying to understand the meaning, before replying to Werner.

"What do you mean?"

"I have all the data recorded during this engagement available in the computer network. But there is something else that I want to know and that no sensor could have recorded: your impressions. How did you react yourself when you watched them?"

She was a bit at a loss for words on this one. It was the kind of open question where she could answer everything and its opposite. So she started to describe how helpless she had started to feel when she was watching the engagement from her monitor. It was too fast, too agile. In comparison, her FRANVs were just sitting ducks.

His smile grew larger and larger as he silently listened to her testimony.

"Why are you smiling like that?" she asked. It was making her feel a bit uncomfortable.

"Well I am proud… Proud of what has been accomplished by all the teams that worked on the project… And proud of those two. They might have caused some trouble, but now they are accomplishing their missions better than how I could have ever imagined."

That one word was probably the best shot she could have.

"Trouble? Did something bad happen?"

Between the moment she finished her question and the moment he started to answer, she prayed to all the gods she knew about that he would give more explanations.

"Well nothing… Or at least nothing you should worry about anyway. They just have strong personalities, nothing more. For now, we are all knees deep into the preparation of the next operations. But when we get a few more resources, this project will quickly swing into full production." He then remained silent for a few long seconds, probably expecting another questions. "Maria, are there any more topics you wish to talk about?"

She too kept silent for a short while. She had a lot of questions on her mind, and she was wondering if she should ask them or not.

"I do actually."

"Well perfect then. What is it?"

She could clearly not bring the mind-link on the table, that was for sure. However, there was something else a bit unrelated she wanted to know more about.

"How is Officer Kanawara doing?"

Back in the days when countries were still a thing, defecting to join the Human Protection Entity was a very dangerous journey. The danger of being caught by their fellow countrymen that remained loyal to their flags or being intercepted during transit by roaming Klaxosaurs made it that only a few dared trying to make it alone. When Naomi's Viper Zero touched down on the runway of the first Entity facility, there was another Japanese Air Self-Defense Force fighter with her. It was piloted by her wingman, Lieutenant Hachi Kanawara. The two remained together on land and in the skies at almost all times, always working in tandem and watching each other's backs. And so, when testing for Project Moses began, the pair proved to be perfect test pilots. With her in the front handling the controls and him in the back providing data, they spearheaded the first years of FRANV combat operations with great success.

At least until the immortality serum started eating everyone's brains out.

Side effects had started to appear but so slowly that nobody had really noticed them until Hachi passed out during an important bombing run. He only woke up after several days of intense surgery, and what was discovered immediately lead to the immediate grounding of the entire fleet. His brain had suffered heavy damage in large areas that contained high amounts of chemicals linked to the serum. And when he woke up, he was simply not the same man. Some of his most distant memories had disappeared from his memory and he could not express any emotion.

And so, as the Board scrambled to find a solution and as the Klaxosaurs took advantage of the crisis to regain lost terrain, Werner took Hachi under his wing as his direct assistant. After all, why let everything go to waste when the actual useful parts are still perfectly fine?

"He is doing great. Sometimes I wonder how I would do without him helping me out. Lately, he acts as a liaison between my development teams and the staff of the Settlement that is currently carrying out testing of the Mark Two. He is here for the exercise, so you might come across him in the next few days."

Maria nodded, but she knew that such a meeting would not bring anything, especially if they end up meeting while one or the other has something important to do. They would just exchange pointless small talk before going on their way and nothing of importance would happen.

"I see. Thank you, Werner. It was a pleasure to have this conversation, but now I must go. Simulator sessions for Code Zero Eight Three and Code Zero Five Zero require much more paperwork than I expected."

She stood up and formally saluted Doctor Frank before turning around and walking back through the door in which she had come in. When she finally was alone in the elevator, she started to put together the information she had learned. And once again, the answers she got to most of her questions only lead to even more interrogations. Why was a man so afraid to lose his position acting in such a friendly way? Why was he hiding the mind-link if it was supposed to replace the current hardware relatively soon? Why had she not been called in on this project with her work experience with Werner and his teams?

But there was one question that felt like it was the most important of all.

Who the hell were those two test pilots?

* * *

 **AUDIO FILE ID WF-206712082335**

" _Start recording. Date is December twelfth, twenty sixty-seven. Current time is… Ah fuck this. Everything is fucked anyway. Humanity is condemned. We have all been promised immortality through those injections, but the only thing they are bringing is the complete failure to the FRANV program. And how are we going to fight against the Klaxosaurs if our weapons are completely unusable by anyone? The vast majority of the old fighters in the Entity stocks have been torn down for scraps years ago and those that remain are not even close to be ready for combat. We are doomed._

 _How the hell were we even supposed to know that it would fry our brain in such a way? All tests, all the data, all the experiments hinted only at minor impacts on very localized areas of the brain. We've been monitoring everything regularly and for every pilot. But this… This… And of fucking course, everything had to come crashing down during an important operation. Lieutenant Kanawara returned to his home settlement completely unconscious and was immediately thrown into a MRI unit to see what had happened. The fact that they immediately sent out a request for a medical transfer due to a lack of adapted equipment was the first hint I got towards how bad it was. But I wasn't expecting anything like I've seen._

 _The pictures taken during the operation were… gruesome to say the least. I am no medical doctor, but I can say with assurance that brains are not supposed to look like this. There was this yellowish goo covering so most of the cerebral tissue and compressing the brain inside the skull. The operation to get everything out without damaging too much of the brain was apparently the longest chirurgical procedure recorded by the surgeons of the Entity. And the worst part is that it's still impossible to tell if he is going to make it. The operation is over and is vitals are apparently stable, but will he wake up? And even if he does, how long will he last?_

 _That wouldn't change the fact that all FRANVs are grounded until further notice. I fear that I will have to appear in front of the Board, alongside whoever is currently in charge of the serum program, to explain myself and put ideas on the table to fix this. If I come and tell that there is no more hope left, I would lose my position before the meeting ends._

 _Now I'm just waiting for updates coming from Officer Emidova. We already spoke together today after the operation, and I could see how desperate she was. I mean she knew him for far longer than I did, of course it was going to affect her. But from what she told me, Captain Kubawashi was in a state of emotional shock when she barely landed the plane at their settlement. She is now closely monitored by a team of psychologists, but I doubt their task will be easy._

 _A pilot on the brink of depression, a co-pilot with a foot in his coffin, the entire fleet of combat aircraft grounded and everyone's brain being eaten by yellow goo. Everything is crashing down on us, and I am among those directly responsible. If humanity ever comes through this, I don't think I'll have a choice but to atone for all my sins._ "

* * *

"Hey Eighty-Three."

It was no surprise that when Three-Aught-Five finally found him, he had his two headphones deep inside his ears, slowly bobbing his head back and forth. He was sitting under a lone tree, facing directly towards the isolated memorial, ignoring the cold wind with his simple uniform.

At first, he did not react. She could not really tell if it was because he was not hearing her or if he was trying to ignore her. So she stepped forward and sat down to her squadmate's side, looking towards the statue. After all, it was her responsibility to assure everyone in the group was fine.

"Why do you come here so often?" He remained silent, but a small shift in his position clearly shown that she had his attention. "Almost every time you go alone, someone find you under this tree. What is so special about this place?"

Slowly, he took off the two buds and stuffed them into one of his pocket.

"I can be alone here. Nobody ever comes to this part of the park and I can be alone with my thoughts."

"And what are those thoughts exactly? You always look so closed to others when we are together. Are you still feeling guilty?"

"It's… It's just… Look, you see the monument?" Three-Aught-Five turned her look towards the sculpture and nodded. "You know what is engraved on its basis, right?"

She gave another nod.

"The identification numbers of all the pilots that have been killed in action."

"Well Fifty and I came so close to have our numbers put in this stone that I just cannot think of anything else. I feel like we would not have left any trace behind us apart from an engraved stones nobody ever sees."

"Hey, you don't have to worry about that. You are here, Fifty is here, we are all here and you are certainly far from being forgotten. But I see what you mean. Too bad we are almost told about those that fell in combat. Maybe you should talk to Maria about this, she might be able to do something about this."

"I doubt that Maria could do anything, but thanks for the idea anyway."

Three-Aught-Five stood back up and placed herself just in front of the boy, blocking his view of the monument.

"You should probably stand up and do stuff instead of just being miserable and all alone. I mean there are quite a lot of things you could do on your free time."

Eighty-Three nodded before putting himself back on his leg.

"Yeah… I guess you are right. Maybe I could go to the library and read some books. That'll change my mind for a bit."

His look suddenly felt less empty, and this success made Three-Aught-Five smile. Or at least it made her smile until a gust of chilly wind suddenly made her shiver.

"It's getting pretty cold out here. We should probably go back inside before you catch a cold."

And so the two headed towards the sliding doors that led into the building. It was only when he stepped inside that he realized how cold it actually was outside. They continued to walk along the large corridors as their conversation became small talk about what they were doing during their own training. While Three-Aught-Five described training sorties and kill house drills that were in every way similar to what they were used back in Settlement Twenty, things were a bit different with Eighty-Three and Fifty's sessions in the simulator.

The simulators of the Garden were much larger in scope and in performance than what was at the Settlement. And it was something he himself had to get used to. But they were still making progress. Under the watch of a lot of specialists, they had reached a point where Fifty could support the mind-link during standard flight. Of course, the moment a small variable changed, everything would start to fail, but that was better than nothing.

After a few minutes, they ended up inside the main hall. It was the main area open to pilots during their free time. From here, they could access almost every area of the Garden they wanted, at least with the correct security clearances. And as usual, the hall was not empty. Between the pilots simply catching a break between exercises or those waiting for their first sortie of the day, it was not really a dense crowd, but Eighty-Three and Three-Aught-Five were far from being alone.

The conversation continued until the girl noticed that his look had changed focus from her to something else behind her. So she turned her head around, interrupting her sentence to try to find out what caused this change. And the moment her eyes laid upon the answer, the reason for why it had distracted Eighty-Three became obvious.

Two pilots escorted by guards.

"What?"

She was legitimately confused. The two looked like regular pilots, their uniforms were clean, their looks were innocent and yet, there were two armed soldiers fully covered in body armor walking alongside them.

"Hey! Look at me." Eighty-Three only whispered, but it was largely enough to get her to turn her head back towards him. "Try to stay discreet if you want to look at them."

"Why are you saying that?"

In reality, he did not really know himself and was just as confused. It just felt that the right thing to do was to keep low and observe without making it too obvious.

"Something is not right… And I want to know what. Keep talking, we need to look like we're having a real conversation while I watch."

"Well, huh… Ok," she replied before going back to her original subject. But seeing Eighty-Three's eye constantly going back and forth between her and whatever was happening was simply too distracting. "Come on, what it actually happening?"

"Looks like they have joined a group. I guess they are part of their squadron. Can't really tell, though. The guards are in the way."

However, he could still get a few glimpses of the faces of those that were in this group. And the disparity seemed even more confusing. Some were happy, others looked relieved while the rest of those he could see were showing signs of concern.

Something was definitively not right.

So he kept watching, detailing as much information as he could to Three-Aught-Five. And the more he observed them, he strangely started to feel close to them. It seemed that they were not in very friendly terms with their higher ups. It might not have been on his scale, but he could still to make some allies for his upcoming actions. This continued for several long minutes. Long minutes during which he wished he could just hear what they were saying.

Suddenly, the two armed guards turned their backs and walked away towards a nearby elevator, leaving the group all alone. During a split second, he finally had the opportunity to clearly see the faces of those two pilots. And during that split second, he made eye contact with the boy.

His green eyes seemed empty, lost and confused, like he was discovering everything that he was seeing. Those were not the eyes of a normal pilot, even after long and tiresome combat missions. There was really only one thing, or one person, that he could think as being the reason behind all of this.

Quickly, Eighty-Three snapped his look back towards Three-Aught-Five, hoping that the boy would not tell his group that they were being watched.

"What is it? What did you see?"

Of course, she was eager to know more about the situation, but he just could not find any words that could describe what he had seen.

"I… I am not really sure myself."

And in a way, he felt like it was for the better. If he was going to do something, it was probably better not to get Three-Aught-Five, or any other squadron member for that matter, involved.

"Come on! Stop being so vague for five minutes!"

Three-Aught-Five was clearly starting to get upset about this situation, but she was not yelling. Instead, she turned her head towards the group. And by reflex, Eighty-Three did the same.

But they were not there anymore.

"Oh no," he whispered, starting to scan the room to see where they had gone. They had like vanished, gone from sight. However, in the corner of his eye, he saw silhouettes walking away into one of the corridors. "Sorry Three-Aught-Five, but I got to go. See you at dinner."

"Eighty-Three! Wait!"

But he did not hear her as he dashed to try to keep the group into his field of view. Problem is, when everyone is simultaneously wearing the same clothes, it is pretty hard to find one particular person among all the others. With the direction that group had taken, he could make several theories as to where they were headed. The gym and simulators room did not quite fit their attitude, leaving only the barracks as a possible destination.

But if they were heading towards the barracks, it meant that they had to use the elevators that were at the end of the corridor. And elevators were a gamble. If someone else decided to use it, they could slow down himself or his target.

When he reached the pair of elevators, he was quick to press the button to call one of them. Immediately, a light chime rung and the light placed above one of the set of doors lit up, indicating that a lift was already ready to be used at this level. While the door opened, he turned his head around, trying to check if anyone was suspicious of his behavior while waiting for the doors to open.

At a first glance, he looked like nobody was paying any kind of attention to him. Or at least that is what he thought he had seen before something violently dragged him inside the elevator.

Everything happened so fast that he started to realize what had happened only when the doors of the cage closed down on him. Someone was holding him from behind with one hand pressed against his torso while the other was tightly covering his mouth. But his arms were still free to move.

With all the force he could gather, Eighty-Three threw back his elbow into his aggressor's flank. Upon impact, he felt the grasp on his body loosening up for a split second. But this was only a small gasp of air as he was thrown into the wall. The attacker was now locking his arms behind his back while applying pressure, preventing him from moving at all.

At this point, the only thing Eighty-Three could do was look around. And he could only vaguely see a silhouette getting closer to his ear. He tried to break free, but that only caused the increase of pressure. He stopped when he started to hear and feel the slow breath directly next to his face, but still out of his field of view.

And then, a question.

"Why are you following me and my Darling?"

* * *

 **Welcome and thank you for reading the fifth chapter of Discoveries.**

 **A bit of a shorter one this time around because I already had found the perfect way to end it and I did not really want to try too hard to stuff content into this chapter. It would have been unnecessary. And on top of it I get a bit of time off to enjoy my summer vacation without writing.**

 **Now I imagine that you have already guessed who is going to be featured in the future. They will indeed play an important role in the story I want to tell, so those that said I replaced the characters from the source material with my own are lying. Looking at you, guy who posted three times the same review as guest. I also took the time to get a bit deeper in the backstory of some characters. It might not be much right now, but other elements will be built upon this foundation later on in the story.**

 **Anyway, thank you all for reading and I'll see you in the next chapter.**


	6. Antisocial

"Why are you following me and my Darling?"

With the force pushing on his back, Eighty-Three could not breathe properly. Stuck against the wall, his lungs could not fill themselves with air, preventing the pilot from replying. But the one that asked the question did not seem to get that.

"Why were you creeping behind us like that?"

This second question was asked with much more frustration in the voice. However, this shift of tone did not change the fact that Eighty-Three was unable to speak. He struggled for a few seconds, trying to shift to a slightly more comfortable position, but the only thing it did was anger the interrogator.

Before he knew it, he was violently thrown towards the other side of the cabin. The contact with the wall was hard, enough to leave him completely groggy on the ground.

"Zero Two! Stop!"

Even if he could not really process what was happening, Eighty-Three at least picked up that it was someone else that had spoken up. Through his fuzzy vision, he could just see two silhouettes towering above him, their face darkened by the backlighting of the elevator neon lights.

One of the two shadows kneeled down and started snapping its fingers just above his eyes.

"Hey. Are you alright?"

"Yeah... I... I think so," replied Eighty-Three as he rubbed his face.

After a few seconds had passed, blurriness had faded enough for him to finally make sense of what was all around him. Just in front of his eyes was a young male pilot. Simply by looking at his face, it was clear that he had not been a pilot for more than one year or two. With his slightly messy dark haircut and complete lack of facial hair on his chin, he did not look older than sixteen or seventeen. The worried blue eyes that were pointed straight towards Eighty-Three and the tone of his question made it clear that he was not the one that had attacked him, so he turned his look towards the other silhouette.

Standing tall was a young woman who clearly stood out. Even at an initial glance, there was not a single thing about her that looked usual for a pilot of the Entity. The first thing he saw was her bright red uniform that contrasted heavily with the regular shades of grey and dark blue. It was not even a dye or a regular uniform made of a different fabric, but rather a completely different design that he had never seen before. In fact, with its more complex shoulder pads and golden accents here and there, it felt as if whoever was supposed to wear such a uniform was more important than squadron officers.

The surprise and the confusion caused Eighty-Three to quickly scan her from head to toe to understand more, but his gaze quickly stopped over one detail. On the top of her head, in the middle of long hair of an unnatural pink shade, were two red horns. They were not that large, as someone standing behind her could probably not see them, but they overshadowed other details that he had not seen yet like the unusual shape of her pupils or the thin stripes of red skin right under her eyes.

It seems that she caught on this dumbfounded stare, and it very clearly did not make her happy.

"Why were you following us?"

"You have something against Papa, am I right?"

Both were taken aback by the quick reply and remained silent as Eighty-Three stood back up on his feet. Even if they had not really moved, he could feel how they had shifted into a more defensive stance.

"What makes you think that?"

They were unsure, doubtful of that older pilot that had suddenly started to follow them around. They had to see how much trust he was worthy of.

"With the armed guard that escorted your two squad mates, it gives the impression they do not really trust you. And if Papa does not trust you, it might cause you not to trust him in return."

The two looked at each other for a quick second as if to share their opinion. When they turned back towards Eighty-Three, it was the boy that asked his question.

"Even then, why would you attempt to interfere with the affairs of another squadron?"

What had started as an assault had suddenly shifted into a strange interview. But if he wanted to get them to help him, he would have to explain them what he had discovered. Problem was, nothing was guaranteed and they could as well just denounce him to the Entity. It was a bet.

And right now, he felt like trying his luck.

"Well let's just say I have some problems with the Entity myself, and that I am looking for people to assist me."

"And what proves that you are on our side?"

The pink-haired woman was still using a hostile tone when she asked her question, giving the impression that Eighty-Three had touched a key spot. And it only raised the probability of an alliance.

"I know some things that the Entity has been lying about. I have seen things outside of the Settlements that I never expected to see. And I have met people that were not supposed to live where they did."

He knew they would ask for further proofs, so he just reached down in his pocket. The two remained silent as they watched him pull out something in a closed fist. He extended his arm between them and finally opened his hand, revealing a small memory stick with a strange label on it.

"What is this?"

"This stick has been given to me by someone living in the middle of old ruins. It contains hours upon hours of music from genres I did not even know existed. This is the proof that I have seen what Papa tried to hide, and this is the reason I am looking for the truth. But I cannot do it alone."

The woman picked up the drive and examined it very closely. She even went as far as smelling it, which only confused Eighty-Three even more. But it still allowed her to reach some sort of conclusion. The boy looked at her, and when she finally looked back, she nodded.

"Come with us."

The boy reached for the lift control panel and pressed the button to open the doors. It seemed that during this entire scene, they had actually gone down several floors but with all the action going on, Eighty-Three had not realized it. Across the corridor from the lift was a large number painted on the wall, indicating that they had reached the level of the barracks.

The boy was the first to come out of the elevator, the woman closely following him. Eighty-Three was left with no choice but to step out as well. As he expected, the rest of their group was waiting for the two, and as he expected, he immediately felt all the looks turn towards him. Why would they not? None of them had heard the explanation, and they still had all the reasons to be suspicious.

The only ones that were not looking at him in suspicion but rather in confusion were the boy and the girl he had noticed earlier. In fact, they were the reason he was here in the first place. And while he looked at them, he could only wonder if Frederic had seen him like this when they met.

"Who is that?"

The question came from one girl from the group. She was not towering above anyone, yet she was easily standing out as a leader.

"Someone who is seeking help, and who might be able to help us in return," stated the pink-haired woman.

The leader slightly nodded, but still kept a somewhat suspicious look. It was as if, while she trusted her squad mates, she did not trust Eighty-Three.

"Ok let's move back to the barracks. I don't want to stay out here in the open."

With another head movement, she ordered the entire group to move. And Eighty-Three followed.

While they walked, both parties kept silently examining each other. But nobody spoke up as they passed through the various doors leading to the area dedicated to their squadron. By being right among them, he could tell that the entire team were young new pilots. In fact, he was almost half a dozen centimeters taller than the blond boy who was the highest size in the group.

A quick glance at their shoulder patch revealed a large number thirteen embroidered over the black background. He was quick to make the connection with the squadron encountered during the training dogfight, but he kept his mouth shut. He was already walking on a tight rope, so there was no need to shoot himself in the foot on top of that.

As expected, the barrack of squadron thirteen was no different from the rooms of all the others. The main room was as long as it was wide, divided in two parts by a large curtain that could be pulled off or on to either open the space or split the boys and the girls. Along the walls, following a symmetrical pattern, were bunks and individual cabinets for people to store stuff in, while at the back, each side had a door leading to a simple bathroom with toilets and showers.

As the group entered, some headed towards their beds to get a place to sit on, but all kept their looks towards Eighty-Three. Finally, when all settled, it was the short leader that finally spoke up.

"So... Are we going to get an introduction?"

The pilot made sure he was right in the middle of the room before straightening his back to appear as tall as possible.

"Of course. I am Code Zero Eight Three, but you can call me Eighty-Three. I am a FRANV pilot in the squadron of Settlement Twenty, and I do not trust the Human Protection Entity anymore."

As a way to emphasize his words, and maybe also to add a bit of dramatic effect to the situation, he pulled his music player out of his pocket and unplugged the headphones before pressing the play button, launching a random song from the extensive playlist.

As a soft guitar started to play over the small yet powerful speakers, he started to explain everything. The last mission he went on, the unexpected response from the Klaxosaurs, the crash, Fifty's injuries, the ruins, meeting Frederic, the small village inside the church, the handover of the data stick and all the revelations made by Maria. Some members of the audience started to look at each other to share their feelings on this improvised presentation, but they were still all ears to both his words and the music.

At the moment the distorted riff kicked in, it felt as if he had suddenly gained a lot of points just by looking at their reactions. It was clear that none of them had heard anything similar, and it made him smile. But he knew that bringing forward proofs of past events could only do so much with the trust towards the future.

 **Tu bosses toute ta vie pour payer ta pierre tombale.**  
 **Tu masques ton visage en lisant ton journal.**  
 **Tu marches tel un robot dans les couloirs du métro.**  
 **Les gens ne te touchent pas, il faut faire le premier pas.**

"And what exactly do you want? What does this have to do with us?"

The questions came from the blond boy that Eighty-Three had noticed earlier, and by the tone, it seemed he also had a role as a leader in the group.

 **Tu voudrais dialoguer sans renvoyer la balle.**  
 **Impossible d'avancer sans ton gilet pare-balle.**  
 **Tu voudrais donner des yeux à la justice.**  
 **Impossible de violer cette femme pleine de vices.**

"And I will answer with another question. Do you know what happened to your friends? And by that, I mean do you really know for sure?"

 **Antisocial, tu perds ton sang-froid.**  
 **Repense à toutes ces années de service.**  
 **Antisocial, bientôt les années de sévices.**  
 **Enfin le temps perdu qu'on ne rattrape plus.**

The only reply Eighty-Three got was silence. And even when he turned towards the two in question, he could only see confused looks.

"Okay, you don't have any idea..." he sighed.

 **Ecraser les gens est devenu ton passe-temps.**  
 **En les éclaboussant, tu deviens gênant.**  
 **Dans ton désespoir, il reste un peu d'espoir.**  
 **Celui de voir les gens sans fard et moins bâtards.**

"Well, we were minding our own business when armed guards raided our living area and took them away... Today they finally came back and they just could not remember anything."

That statement came from another girl of the group who looked extremely serious with her glasses and her hair tied behind her head.

"And wouldn't you like to know the truth?"

 **Mais cesse de faire le point, serre plutôt les poings.**  
 **Bouge de ta retraite, ta conduite est trop parfaite.**  
 **Relève la gueule, je suis là, t'es pas seul.**  
 **Ceux qui t'enviaient, aujourd'hui te jugeraient.**

The question was rhetorical, but the few nods he could pick up in the audience were enough to tell him that they had the mindset Eighty-Three thought they would have. So, it was with a small smile at the corner of his mouth that he continued.

"Well I'd like to know the truth as well."

 **Antisocial, tu perds ton sang-froid.**  
 **Repense à toutes ces années de service.**  
 **Antisocial, bientôt les années de sévices.**  
 **Enfin le temps perdu qu'on ne rattrape plus.**

"And you want our help for that..."

This comment came from a male voice behind him, so Eighty-Three spun on his heels and pointed a finger towards the only boy he could see.

"Bingo! You got it. Now you probably still do not trust me, and I understand. I mean we do not know each other and I just show up asking for help, so I'll see what I can do with your two friends. Good?"

 **Tu bosses toute ta vie pour payer ta pierre tombale.**  
 **Tu masques ton visage en lisant ton journal.**  
 **Tu marches tel un robot dans les couloirs du métro.**  
 **Les gens ne te touchent pas, il faut faire le premier pas.**

For a few seconds, nobody replied. It was until the amnesic boy stood up from the bed he was sitting on.

"I know that what the adults have told me is not the truth. If you tell me who I really am, I'd trust you."

He himself turned his look towards the amnesiac who simply nodded in a more reserved manner.

 **Tu voudrais dialoguer sans renvoyer la balle.**  
 **Impossible d'avancer sans ton gilet pare-balle.**  
 **Tu voudrais donner des yeux a la justice.**  
 **Impossible de violer cette femme pleine de vices.**

"Well it looks like we have ourselves a deal. Just give me a few days and I'll see what I can find. But I don't think you have introduced yourself yet."

"I... I am Mitsuru. Or at least that was what I have been told."

Now it was Eighty-Three that did not reply, taken aback by the name he had been told. He would not have reacted like this had he been told a regular identification number, or a nickname derived from it. But here, it was an actual name like the officers and the higher ups of the Entity.

It seemed the members of the thirteenth squadron were also surprised. But for them, it was the pilot's reaction that was different from their expectations. After all, they had spent their entire lives using those names and could not imagine someone finding them strange. And some awkward explanations later, they all introduced themselves to Eighty-Three.

First, there were Code Three Two Six, Mitsuru, and Code Five Five Six, Kokoro. Thirteen Delta. The children with lost memories.

Code Two One Four, Futoshi, and Code One Nine Six, Ikuno. Thirteen Charlie. The polar opposites.

Code Six Six Six, Zorome, and Code Three Nine Zero, Miku. Thirteen Bravo. The couple that means trouble.

Code Zero Five Six, Goro, and Code Zero One Five, Ichigo. Thirteen Alpha. The leaders of the pack.

And finally, the crew that stood out most in this squadron.

Code Zero One Six, Hiro, and Code Zero Zero Two, Zero Two. Thirteen X-Ray. A woman and her Darling.

"So... Do you actually have any plan at all right now?" asked Ichigo with a bit warmer tone.

"Not exactly. But give me a few days and I'll try to snoop around and find something. And if I can't do it myself, I am sure I know someone..."

Eighty-Three stopped himself in the middle of his explanation when he felt something creep up his neck. Quickly turning around out of surprise, he could see Zero Two, her tongue out. Without him noticing, she had snuck up behind him and literally got a taste of his sweat.

When his look met hers, they did not move for a split second, the time for Eighty-Three to process what had happened. When his brain finally understood what had just happened, he made a confused step backwards.

"What the... What's wrong with you?" he yelled as a smile appeared at the corner of her mouth.

"You should maybe go back to your squadron. They might be worried about you."

She stated that as if nothing strange had happened, but she still had a point. It was still a bit confused that he stepped back towards the exit.

"Yeah... I'll contact you if I find anything."

And after a quick salute, he left the room and headed back towards the elevators, disappearing behind the various automatic doors.

Now that they were back between just themselves, they all turned towards Zero Two to get her take on this unlikely new possible ally.

"So? What did you feel?" asked Hiro.

"Determination."

* * *

Sometimes, even when you know what to look for and where to look for it, there are still many hurdles in your path blocking you.

Maria knew what she was looking for and where to look for it. But when she tried to access the files of the test pilots, the computer system of the archives was quick to reject her for her lack of authorization. Despite her best efforts to go around those restrictions, each time she was sent back to her starting point without having learned any new information.

What was even more frustrating was that she could still access most of the files of the rest of their team. But even then, all the information linked to the mysterious crew was redacted out, keeping her from accessing all the interesting details.

All the rest was pretty usual. Dozens, if not hundreds of common paperwork like mission reports or performance evaluations that she knew by heart with how many of those she had filled up over her career. The only thing out of the ordinary was that it seemed something had happened just a few days before the start of the exercise. It was enough to get several classified documents in each file with very similar time frames, but she could not really tell anything from that alone. If she had to guess, it was very likely linked to the test pilots she wanted to know about.

And as with so many situations before that, looking for answers only created more interrogations.

As the monitor displayed one of many error messages, her head was scrambling to find new ways to go forward. If her own attempts to access the archives could not go any further, she would have to ask someone for more information. But who?

Werner?

In their last discussion, she had felt pretty clearly that he was far from revealing anything on those test pilots. And even if it seemed that he had changed, she still knew him. He was not going to change his mind that easily.

Naomi?

Her longtime friend had already told her so much about this entire thing that she immediately became a possible source for more information. However, Maria also had the impression that the Japanese woman had told too much. Getting more from her would most likely have consequences for both of them.

Apart from those two, there was just one person that could answer her questions.

Hachi.

But not only had she not talked to him for a very long time, he would be the hardest one to get any information out of. After his accident and his long operation, he closed himself off, sharing almost no emotions. Only a form of his former sense of duty remained, making him a perfect tool for higher ups in the Entity. Someone that executed orders without any questions was very much sought after, especially in contexts involving secret information. However, she was not exactly sure of how he might have changed over all this time. Maybe all those years with Werner changed him, maybe not.

It was a gamble without any safe bet. But a gamble she had to make.

Probably for the first time in at least a century, she took a decision perfectly knowing that it would probably not work and that there was no backup. She could hear her inner self yelling that this entire situation was bad as she left a message on Hachi's communicator asking for a meeting. For a moment, she even hoped that he would not answer and that it would end right there.

But he answered.

Her heart was beating faster and faster as she walked down the corridor leading to the meeting location, the observation deck of one of the hangars. Maybe it was the fact that she was finally going to face the consequences of her biggest past failure that was putting her in such a state, but she could not tell herself. When she stopped in front of the door, she slowly breathed in and out to calm herself and brushed off the sweat from her forehead.

With a slightly lower heartbeat, she waved her hand in front of the control panel, causing the two panels to slide out of her way.

Observation decks were far from being the most comfortable rooms available, but they gave the best view on whatever was happening inside a particular hangar, making them perfect for demonstrations. The only pieces of furniture were chairs surrounding a large table, but she did not focus on them.

On the other side, facing the long bay window, stood the man she had come to see. He was deeply focused on whatever was happening in the hangar below. So much so that when she stepped in, he did not even turn around to welcome her.

"Officer Kanawara," she simply said to get his attention.

But he did not flinch. It was with his head straight still that he replied.

"Officer Emidova. You should see what is on the other side of this window."

His tone was completely emotionless, a robotic speech only here to give orders and deliver reports to Werner. But she could not do anything but follow his instructions.

When she stopped next to him and looked through the clear glass, her heart skipped a beat. In front of her eyes was the experimental plane she had been after for all this time. It might have been a bit small inside a hangar designed for FRANVs, but it was still imposing with its deployed inverted wings and canards. All around the FRANX, ground crews and engineers of the research team were scrambling, working on and with equipment that she could not identify.

Then, when work seemed over, most of those working on the plane backed off, out of the way of two approaching silhouettes. Even if their gear was vastly different, it was easy to guess who they were as they headed straight towards the two ladders leading to the cockpit. The flight suits were simpler than what pilots under her orders were issued. In fact, the more she looked, the more she noticed what was missing. They had no life jackets around their necks, no pouches on their arms or legs and the anti-g equipment seemed to be hidden under or within the fireproof suits. And the same feeling of simple appearance came out of the helmets. From where she was, they looked like plain metal spheres with one slit for the eyes, one hole for the neck and an oxygen tube sticking out in front of the mouth. It came without saying that whatever technology was hiding inside of it was probably the opposite of simplicity.

She kept observing the two pilots as they climbed up in their cockpit and strapped themselves in with the help of some ground crews. Everything seemed familiar so far until the canopy closed down on them. The machine finally started to come to life as its engines started to roar and its variable geometry elements moved into their different positions as a final check. But while all of this was happening, the pilots did not seem to move their heads in any way.

As if they were controlling the plane using only their minds.

When she finally made the connections in her head, she immediately turned towards Hachi who was still looking through the window.

"This..." she started as her heart rate sky rocketed. "This is a complete mind-link, isn't it?"

For some reason, it felt as if he had been expecting the question.

"It is. The brains of both pilot and co-pilot are linked to the inboard computer to control not only sensors and identification, but also weapons, communications and piloting."

While he delivered his reply in his cold voice, the last ground crews that were still around pulled off the ladders and whatever remained near the jet. Shortly after, the large hangar doors started to slowly roll out of the way. What Maria had not noticed when she had entered was the small radio transmitter sitting on the observation deck table. She was startled when a robotic voice suddenly started to speak through it.

« Tower, Thirteen X-Ray. Requesting permission to taxi, over. »

While the words very much understandable, the intonation had nothing natural to it. In fact, this voice felt closer to how the personal assistant in her office talked than an actual human being. But there were no doubts that the one doing the talking was the pilot of the jet.

« Understood, Thirteen X-Ray. You are cleared to taxi to point Charlie and wait for takeoff clearance. »

The sound of the engines softly became louder as the plane finally came into motion and rolled out of the hangar and onto the taxiway. Both observers remained silent while they watched, listening to the standard radio communications with the tower.

Then, the sound faded away, leaving Maria to turn back toward Hachi.

"I know you wanted to see me because of this." His statement was so close to the truth that she could not reply. "The doctor has told me that you met him and what he explained to you. And with all the data you had most likely gathered for the engagement between squadrons Thirteen and Twenty, this was the most likely event."

In a normal situation, she would probably would have made a sarcastic comment about how his analytic nature, but here, she just wanted answers.

"How... How did you actually do it? I thought that there was a bottleneck with the computer hardware when it tried to handle two minds at once..."

"We completely changed the architecture of the system. This is why the doctor told you that there was no intention of transitioning crews of the current generation to the next. Not only would it require new formations, but a vast majority of pilots currently deployed would not be fit for this new architecture."

And as always, a reply only leads to more questions.

"What do you mean? Have you changed things so much that even the co-pilots cannot use it?"

"Mind-link is not about getting sensor data directly into the brain anymore. Now, we do not simply link up two minds to a computer at a same time, we link two minds together first."

"Wait, what?"

Her reaction of surprise was completely genuine. But he ignored her sudden remark and continued on with his explanation, seemingly without emotion.

"This is not something that can be done by any pair of pilots. In fact, this is not something that can be handled by unmodified human brains. The genetic sources had to be modified to get stable connections and the pilots have to think very much alike to get results that are combat worthy."

"So, I guess this is why Werner said those two test pilots gave him trouble, huh?"

"We were expecting a high number of problems, but I think that the way the doctor involved himself with the new pilots has led him to take decisions that I would have advised against to better the life of the young pilots. I even have some suspicions on whether or not said issues had consequences, even minor, on his behavior and mental health."

Somehow, this comment managed to get a small laugh out of Maria.

"Werner? Changing his behavior to help kids out? Are we really talking about that grumpy old man that would yell at everyone when you and Naomi broke a piece of the prototype? I mean, I guess people change with time..."

She willingly referenced a past they had in common to see what kind of reaction he would have. And while he still continued with his same emotionless tone, she could have sworn she had seen him raise the corner of his lip in an extremely small smile. However, the positive feelings it brought would not last very long.

"He was already really involved with the wellbeing of the first generations of pilots. The facilities that many call the Garden are based on his ideas. But it really became personal when, out of all the test subjects that had been produced, only a single pair of genetically modified embryos were still alive after nine months. One male and one female. Sadly, the boy passed away only a few weeks after birth due to unforeseen complications. With only one subject alive, the doctor took matters directly into his own hands and started to act like a father."

The sudden dark turn taken by the story kept Maria completely silent. There was not much she could say about sad events like those ones. The silence was only broken by the radio coming back to life.

« Tower, Thirteen X-Ray. On stand-by at point Charlie. Requesting permission to takeoff. »

« Thirteen X-Ray, you are cleared for takeoff on runway one six. Wind heading three one zero, six knots. Climb to five thousand feet and link up with mission control. Over. »

« Copy that, Tower. Runway one six, wind three one zero at six knots and climb five thousand feet. Thirteen X-Ray out. »

Outside, the roar of the engines made itself heard again in the distance. But only a few seconds later, the noise started to fade out again as the jet disappeared into the clouds.

And without her saying anything, he continued.

With the same voice, he went on about the troubles of finding a suitable partner for the only remaining pilot. At first, they kept her alone during most of the childhood phase, as both an effort to keep the project secret and to make sure she could support basic simulations. Due to a lack of accessibility of some of the key resources needed, making new generations was already out of the question. So, they looked for pilots that did not have co-pilots and picked the one with the best expected results. The two lived together for a few months and do training gradually growing in intensity before reaching the point at which the two ended up in the cockpit of the FRANX.

But as expected, there were no miracles. Quickly, the poor pilot started to suffer from brain damage that rendered him unfit for action. That forced the research staff to seek another pilot and start the cycle once again, hoping that small changes to their method would twist the results around.

They did not.

While there were some outliers, most did not make it past three sorties before they had to be pulled out of the cockpit on a stretcher. And while they were far from achieving their original goal, the higher ups of the research team and even the board of the Entity itself deemed the sacrifice worth it for all the data it allowed them to gather.

This loop kept on for a very long time. A large number of transport aircraft would unload the FRANX, all the necessary equipment and personnel at a Settlement, a poor soul would start training alongside the genetically modified co-pilot before jumping into the cockpit and becoming almost braindead.

And when people stopped expecting anything, a miracle happened.

The cargo planes landed at Settlement Thirteen to pick a pilot whose partner had been heavily injured in a transport accident just before their real deployment. And somehow, everything worked right away. The two immediately bonded together, and when the doctor complied with her demand of immediately starting real sorties, everything functioned right away. By the time they had expected to actually start those tests, the FRANX was taking part in live combat missions against the Klaxosaurs.

"For months, we continued at breakneck speeds, reaching milestone after milestone without any sign of faltering. All of this leads us up to today where they will soon take part in one of the most important military operations in the history of the Entity."

He finished his story just like he had finished them. Without a trace of emotion. Maria was thankful for all the information she had just been given, but there was just something that she could not figure out.

"Why are you telling me all of this? If this is so much of a secret, then why are you handing over all of it on a silver plate?" At first, he remained silent. "Naomi didn't say anything about this. Werner didn't tell anything about this. So why you?"

"Because I feel this is the right thing for me to do."

This reply only left her dumbfounded. If there was one thing that defined Hachi, even before his accident, was that he took his order and secret very seriously above his feelings.

"What... What do you mean?"

"I know that you have done many things for me in the past. I had to find a way to pay you back. And saving you the trouble of seeking all this information you were looking for seemed largely more than enough."

She was truly speechless. This information seemed way too important, and yet he told all of it just as a thank you. This was too big. Something had to be lying underneath, but at the same time it was hard to imagine Hachi, of all people, hiding or lying about what he says.

"I... Thanks..."

It was the only word that could come out of her mouth after long silent seconds.

"Now, you can focus more on your tasks as Squadron Officer. I have exchanged with many during those testing periods, so I know that time is a valuable resource for you."

Maria could just nod before wishing him goodbye and leaving him alone to his business. As she headed back towards the small room that she was using as a temporary office, she started to feel a lot lighter, relieved that a vast majority of her questions had been answered. Sure, she still had in mind Hachi's story and she knew that other suspicious secret projects would arise from that, but for now, she just wished for a bit of stability to get some work done.

* * *

He had looked thoroughly for ideas and information, but Eighty-Three had not found anything regarding the two pilots he wanted to help. It was obvious that medical information was not going to be available through the terminals of the library, yet he had still hoped for at least a small hint. Not much came out of this, though not without reading a bit more about the official version of the history of the Entity.

And from all the tales of past battles in strategy books to the stories behind the ruins of large cities in geography books, the impression it gave was that of a humanity spontaneously joining forces to form the Human Protection Entity under the benevolent watch of the Chairman and develop the best weapons to fight the Klaxosaurs. And of course, what better way to fight the enemy than to send in heroic warriors trained from birth to be humanity's champions in this war for survival. There were as well some more detailed explanations around the purposes of Mobile Settlements, and while the arguments about resource gathering and the extremely important number of security measures needed for sedentary life like the facility he was in were still making some sense, he could only roll his eyes at the paragraph saying that autonomous life outside of the Mobile Settlement network was simply impossible.

The results so far were that he had barely gone forward with his current task that was already costing him much of his time between training sessions with Fifty. And he had the feeling that something was coming soon. Training missions started to be more and more collaborative between squadrons, giving no doubt that the final stage of the exercise was coming soon. If he wanted to do something, he had to do it quickly.

To get medical data, he had to go where medical data was stored. And there were not that many places that fit the description. He had gone to the medical wing with Fifty several times already, accompanying her in an effort to seem less distant, so he knew the layout a bit. But he would still need to make a first visit to identify where he could go to find what he wanted. He had flown reconnaissance mission before, he knew what he had to do.

While waiting in front of the elevator that would take him on the floor of the medical wing, he started wondering what he would tell if someone asked him what he was doing there. Faking an illness or an injury? That would only lead to more trouble. Maybe come in as if to look for Fifty? That would make him look like an idiot for not knowing where his partner was.

"So. How is your search going?"

Deep in his thoughts, he had not noticed the silhouette coming from behind him as the elevator doors opened. Startled, he tried to turn around but was instead softly pushed into the cabin. A split second was more than enough to recognize the pinked-haired figure.

"Ah, dammit." The surprised reaction made her laugh which was much to his displeasure. "Why would you do this?"

"A pilot must always stay aware of his surroundings. You did not seem very aware. How is your search going?"

"I have an idea as to where to look for, but I do not think it will be easy to access it without any issue."

"So, what is your plan?"

Quickly, he gave her a rundown of the situation with the medical wing and the possibility of finding the files there. He barely had the time to finish that she went on and pressed the button corresponding to the floor he wished to go to.

"Hey! What are you doing? I need to go there alone!"

"You just said you were going to have trouble accessing a terminal with the files on it, did you not?"

"Of course! That is why I need to go there once before making a decision on how to get that data with the clearance I have. Maybe I could…"

"Maybe you could access that directly with an S grade clearance."

Zero Two's statement was so ridiculous that this time, it was Eighty-Three that laughed.

"An S clearance? I mean sure, that would probably get me anywhere, but not even squadron officers have..."

"Then I guess this will not be of any use to you."

She interrupted him by raising her arm, turning the inside of her wrist towards the older pilot. As expected, there was a small plastic bracelet which contained the chip carrying the clearance chip. And engraved on it was a small S letter.

"I… How… How did you get that?"

She simply shrugged off his interrogations.

"The perks of working with certain people."

He did not reply. As the elevator lifted them towards their destination, he could not help but wonder who exactly she was. Everything about her seemed strange and out of the ordinary, from the ways she acted to, obviously, her physical attributes. In fact, he wondered if he should try and look at her own file to discover more on this strange creature.

But, lost in his thoughts, he had not realized that his examination was the complete opposite of discreet.

"You're wondering about the horns, aren't you?"

This snap back to reality made Eighty-Three falter, trying to find an excuse.

"Wha… No… No I'm not…"

"Does they make me inhuman?"

"In… Inhuman? I… No. Why would they?" He was still faltering, but this time more out of confusion than embarrassment. "I mean you have two legs, two arms, a head with everything on it and at the right place. I mean sure, nobody would expect something like that…"

"You do not know me for very long, so I want an honest answer. Do you consider me as a monster?"

"What? No! You are not different than any of us. We're all freaks anyway. Even the adults are freaks with their immortality. As far as I'm concerned, we are all on the same page here."

She did not reply. He could only guess whether or not she was satisfied with his answer to a question that probably meant more to her than it would seem. Maybe she wanted to find more things about herself at the end.

The rest of the ride was silent. Eighty-Three could only wonder what was going to happen. Zero Two did not say anything either, but he could not tell why. She seemed prepared, too prepared for the upcoming events. As if she had already trespassed on unauthorized areas before.

When the door opened, she was the first one to exit the lift. When he stepped out, she was already a few meters down the corridor that led to their destination, the medical wing. Walls on both sides were covered by windows, giving a good look at the large cooling towers of the Magma refineries that were transforming the precious raw resource day and night for use in the many plants present on the site. The clouds that slowly rose from the towers slowly drifted away in the wind, without any care for limitations or clearances.

But he was not the type to go on wishing he was a cloud or something like that. He was who he was and he had no reason to change it. Still, there were things around him that needed to change. And that what was really on his mind.

When Zero Two reached the closed door, she stopped herself right in front the control panel.

"Behold," she stated before waving her hand before the detector.

The device beeped and a small light started to flash green, immediately relieving Eighty-Three from a huge weight over his heart. On the other side was a large room he already knew. On a normal occasion, he would have pressed a button on the same panel before stating the reason of his visit. If it was considered reasonable, someone would have opened the door for him and asked the pilot to wait in that room.

In the middle of the room were many chairs meant for those waiting for members of the medical crew to take them for an appointment. On his regular visits with Fifty, he would not go any further than this while his teammate would go on with a nurse down one of the numerous corridors that lead to all the various rooms.

Everything felt awfully calm at this hour of the day. All the chairs were empty and nobody was going up the corridors. The only thing that was there was the sound of their own footsteps and the low buzz of the neon lights.

"So… What now?"

Zero Two's question almost made Eighty-Three jump.

"Why do you mean 'what now'? I don't know! You're the one that went on like you had a plan… I guess we have to find an archive or something."

She simply nodded in acknowledgement before turning around and heading down one corridor seemingly at random. And he could only follow. She was walking way too confidently to be someone that did not knew where she was going. Had she done something like this before?

On both sides of the cold corridors, all the doors were exactly the same, with the numbers written on them being the only differences. He already knew what was behind them, similar hospital room hosting people under treatment. Everyone did something in their life that earned them a trip in on those for a few days. Sadly, for Fifty, it had also cost her a leg.

The walk felt like it went on for hours. Hours of a neon white empty corridor and identical doors with no end in sight. At least until the corridor finally turned and what was written on the door changed. Those were not patient rooms anymore, but rather the offices of the main doctors that worked in the medical wing. Most of the time, they would be inside, receiving people during appointments. But sometimes, they would be unavailable, out for a different business or on break, which meant that their offices would be empty. A quick peek at the control panels of the doors was enough to determine which room was a suitable target for their reconnaissance mission. Zero Two waved her bracelet near the control panel of one of those empty offices, opening the door wide open for them to enter.

The office was far from being as large as Maria's office in Settlement Twenty, but it was still a large room. Large enough at least to fit many pieces of medical equipment useful for all kind of examinations. On the far side from the door was also a large desk with a monitor and the personal belongings of the owner of this office. At this point, he knew what he had to do. There was no turning back, but he was still very much unsure.

"Aren't we going to get caught? Isn't there a security camera looking at us right now?"

And once again, she simply shrugged it off.

"Why would it? We entered here with all the right clearance. You clearly overestimate the capabilities of the Entity."

A light press on the side of the monitor was enough to spark it to life. It started to display a clean menu screen, filled with the icons of all kinds of different applications. They were not interested in any of those though, they only wanted the archives.

"Scanner… Electrocardiogram… Prescription… Come on, where are those files! Here?"

With the mouse, he selected an icon label 'med. arch.', and it seemed to work as the screen changed to display a question prompt.

 **HPE Medical Archives**  
 **Which type of file do you wish to access?**  
 **Civilian personnel**  
 **Military non-pilot personnel**  
 **Pilots**

By selecting the correct option, a list appeared. A long list of numbers too long to be fully displayed, starting at Zero Zero One and going all the way to numbers in the hundreds. Now all they had to do was pick up the correct number and read all the info in it.

"Let's see… What's the number of the boy? Code Three…"

"Three Two Six. Here," she continued, pointing with her finger the number she had just told.

A double click on the designated number opened another window and made Eighty-Three's heartbeat rise. In the top left corner of the screen were a photo and other pieces of general information that allowed them to confirm they were inside the right file. Now all they had to do is go through the long list of documents to find exactly what they wanted.

"Looks like I can sort all of these by time. When did everything happen?"

"Everything happened in the last week… At least that's how long they have been taken away from us."

A few maneuvers later, the list had been shortened to only a handful, and they hoped that what was on top was what they were looking for. Without hesitation, he opened it, revealing a text document apparently written by a member of the internal security division of the Entity.

"As per security report Thirteen Two Two Five," Eighty-Three started to read, "Code Three Two Six must undergo a cognitive alteration procedure to ensure his loyalty towards the members of his squadron, the FRANV pilot corps and the Human Protection Entity. The procedure must start as soon as possible."

"Cognitive alteration… Of course it is. What else would it be?"

What he made of Zero Two's comment was simple. She knew what it was, and he did not.

"What in the world does that mean?" he asked, really hoping for an answer to dissipate the fog that was starting to form.

"It means that Mitsuru and Kokoro stepped too far away from the rank to earn them a trip to the room where they erase people's memories. We all had very strong suspicions, but now we have proof. Can you access that security report?"

"Doesn't look like it... This doctor must not have the security clearance required. And I don't think your bracelet is going to do anything."

Zero Two shook her head, clearly showing that she was thinking the same thing. They could only hope to find about it another way.

"Now, what about Kokoro..."

"I doubt this would be much dif..."

Her hand suddenly slammed into the desk, interrupting him in the middle of his sentence.

"Check Kokoro's file!"

Far from him the idea of doing against her will, especially when her voice had suddenly shifted. So, he complied, selecting the numbers Five Five Six from the long list. After sorting the documents, both found the exact same results as with Mitsuru.

However, there were also some that did not match with anything. Without a word spoken between Eighty-Three and Zero Two, he opened the first one.

"What is this?"

He was confused. Larges tables containing various numbers that did not make any sense at first glance.

"Analysis results..." replied Zero Two that was not much more confident. "Urinal analysis maybe? What would they be looking for in her urine?"

Below the confusing numbers was a paragraph that seemed to sum up the findings of that analysis.

"After study of the compounds found inside the urine of Code Five Five Six," he started to read out loud without really realizing it, "all signs concur with the presence of a fertilized egg. The estimated start of the pregnancy is of one week or less, which seems to confirm the information given in security report Thirteen Two Two Five."

He was not really sure that what he had read was real. He turned his head towards Zero Two, hoping for her to tell he was dreaming. But she was just focused on the screen, and she kept reading.

"Following written instructions given in the mentioned report, Code Five Five Six will undergo Protocol Tango in the shortest delays possible."

Of course, in the list of documents was a report about such a protocol, and it was quickly opened. So much was at stakes now. But what they read in it made them speechless. Unless for a single world he had been never used before.

"Fuck!"

* * *

 **Welcome and thank you for reading the sixth chapter of Discoveries.**

 **I hope that this chapter makes it clear that, no, I am not getting rid of the original cast. And as you might have guessed, it is not simply a cameo for a single chapter but rather they will be a central part of my story.**

 **What's next? As I return to school, I will start to write for my GATE story but I am really looking forward to when I'll continue Discoveries, especially to expand the story of other characters that, so far, have not been featured all that much.**

Anyway, thank you all for reading and I'll see you in the next chapter.


	7. Gruppa Krovi

"Eighty-Three, what is all of this supposed to mean?"

As soon as possible, all members of the thirteenth squadron had gathered back in their room, ready to hear the findings of Eighty-Three. He had started to read a report that he had somehow managed to get his hands on, but none of his words were understandable by the young pilots. So, their leader came forward, asking for more precision.

"Ah I had to expect it," he sighed. "Do you know what pregnancy is?"

He quickly looked around him, checking if anyone was nodding or something similar. But, as expected, he could only more confusion and dumbfoundedness. He understood that Kokoro and Mitsuru literally had their mind wiped clean, but the others not knowing was just annoying. Only one of them looked different, but he was already aware that she knew.

"All those explanations are going to get even more complicated," he sighed again, shaking his head. "How to explain it simply? Urgh... You know what, I'll be direct and we will go from there. This report means that inside the body of your friend over here, a group of cells had started to form and that would have later become a baby."

"A baby?"

"What?"

"I don't understand..."

Reactions were not getting better as whispers started to go around. It was only after a few second that one got back around to him.

"A baby... Like us, but a long time ago?" asked Ikuno.

"Well... Yes, exactly. We all started off as babies before growing up. None of us really remembers it, but that is normal. And although we are all exceptions to that rule in a lot of ways, life comes from a male and a female doing… things with their reproductive organs. I don't know exactly why or how, but that's not the point."

Again, his explanations were met with whispers from people trying to make sense of all this.

"And how do you know all of this?"

This time, the question came from Miku, a suspicious eyebrow well risen above one of her eyes.

"It's a bit of a long story... There used to be two cats living with us a long time ago. One day we noticed that one was getting fatter over time and changing its behavior. We did not know what was going on until we found all the kittens. Our Officer did not really have a choice but to explain what had happen."

There was not much he could say without opening a parenthesis he was not sure he could close. And whether she was convinced or not was not his problem. The internal debates were still going strong, some arguing that Eighty-Three was spewing non-sense while others took his words as the truth. The only one that were not taking part of the rising hubbub were Kokoro and Mitsuru, too awkward to say anything, Zero Two, calmly observing from the sideline.

But it was very long until Kokoro dared to make her voice heard, a hand on her stomach, cutting the chatter short.

"So you mean I have a baby inside my body?"

"Well, about that." He pulled out another piece of paper from his pocket and unfolded it. "According to the medical file, after the pregnancy test, you went through what they call Protocol Tango. This is the final report about it."

His tone was lower, and his expression had become much more serious. This was enough for everyone to tell that a twist was coming.

"Eighty… Eighty-Three. What… What is a Protocol Tango?"

Mitsuru faltered a bit as he asked his question. His heart was beating faster and faster in his chest and it was not a feeling that he was enjoying. But he did not get a direct reply. Instead, the pilot started to read.

* * *

 **After injection of ten milligrams of T-class active substances directly into the bloodstream of Code Five Five Six and a rest period of ten hours under artificial sleep, further analyses have been done. The levels of all relevant indicators have returned to normal and remains of destroyed egg cells have been found.**

 **The pregnancy has been successfully terminated.**

 **Code Five Five Six should be monitored for a period of at least two days before undergoing any other medical procedure to ensure the proper elimination of the T-class substances.**

 **Addendum: After fifty hours of monitoring, analyses show complete elimination of all T-class substances within her bloodstream. There are no counter indications for cognitive alteration procedures.**

* * *

This threw a heavy blanket of silence in the dorm.

And while there were some that stayed silent out of confusion, most were because they had understood. Now, the emotional rollercoaster had reached the stage of shock and sorrow.

"So... Does that mean it's... it's not..."

Kokoro was on the limit of bursting into tears, without herself really knowing why. Inside her head was just a mix of sadness, anger, confusion and disgust. And it was not something she knew how to handle.

"Sadly, yes. It means that if I understood the timeline correctly, you two did something then put on this whole ceremony thing and after that you got raided by assault troops of the Entity that took you away, killed off what was inside of you, washed up your mind before dropping you back with your group, here. Am I correct?" He quickly turned his head towards Zero Two who gave a small nod to confirm his word. "And to be honest, seeing how blurry this whole thing is, there is no doubt that Papa is involved with this in one way or the other. Would not be too much of a stretch to say he ordered the thing directly."

Nobody said anything afterward while Kokoro and Mitsuru fell in each other's arms to comfort themselves. But it was not very long until Ichigo stepped forward, towards Eighty-Three. She was visibly shaken as well, as was everyone else, but it did not seem to affect her leadership.

"Okay... We now have a basic run down of the events of the past week or so. But that's the past. What does it mean for the future? And what does it mean for you?"

He wanted to reply directed, but somebody else started to speak in his stead.

"If people step out from the line," stated Zero Two in a very calm manner with her look straight towards the Squadron Twenty pilot, "the Entity punishes them harshly. We all stepped out of the line, and Kokoro and Mitsuru both payed a heavy price. Now, you know you stepped out of the line. And you now know what you are risking. What remains to be seen is your course of action."

Eighty-Three remained silent for a short time. He was asking this question to himself. He had secured himself a group of allies, but what now?

"Well... For now, I'll say that we should wait and see. Wait and see what the Entity is going to do, wait and see what more info we can find, wait and see what action we can figure out. And it might be preferable to let things die down before going on sneaking around again."

"You should probably spend some time with your Squadron as well," added Zero Two with the same tone. "Your co-pilot might need support in those times. And maybe watch your backs too, we don't know what the Entity could do if they find your results disappointing."

Those word hit too close to home for him not to react. But he knew he should have seen it coming. This whole meeting could have been summed up as him giving sad news to the members of Squadron Thirteen. It was nothing but normal than for them to warm him about things hitting him back.

"Yeah... Yeah you are right. Thanks. I'll get in touch."

He quickly saluted everyone before turning away and leaving the dorm. Now, Squadron Thirteen was alone with itself. Kokoro had wiped off her tears, but there was not much anyone could say in fear of bringing her back down.

There was just Zero Two, turning back towards Hiro who had remained silent during the entire discussion.

"What do you think about all of this, Darling?"

"I don't really know... I just feel like things are going to be happening really fast."

* * *

In the Garden, all Officers were issued a small office. It was far from being as spacious and comfortable as what they were used to in their respective Settlements, but it was still a closed workspace where they could work effectively and connect with all the databases they needed. And for Maria, more so than for others, it was extremely useful.

Not only did she have to plan out the training missions for the three able crews under her command, she also had to do all the paperwork and planification for simulators sessions, medical appointments and other special measures for Code Zero Five Zero and Code Zero Eight Three. And with all this, she still had to find time to talk to them directly in head-to-head meetings to discuss things.

Real down times were few and far between for her, and for a while they were not bringing all the results she was wishing for. A lot of Code Zero Five Zero's recovery program was falling behind schedule and she had a lot of question over the mysterious Squadron Thirteen. But now, the first sessions with real a FRANV were on the horizon and the meeting with Hachi had given her most of the answer she wanted.

And it was making her feel free.

As she typed out the last few words of a sortie report on her keyboard, she let out a pleased sigh. Her work was done for the day and she had what felt like all the time in the world just to herself. So, she laid down in her chair before reaching out to a button on her desk, turning on the microphone of the digital assistant.

"Can you play some music please?"

It was a rhetorical question as, a second later, a soft guitar started to play over the small speakers. Maria immediately recognized the riff that threw her back. Way back. It was a song from her youth, even if it was older than her by several decades. In fact, it was mostly a song from her parents' youth. But she did not recall putting this in her playlist.

This thought suddenly brought back memories of her mother and her father. And while, over the course of an entire century, she had forgotten a lot of events she had lived with them, she had not forgotten their characters.

Her father was a police officer in their town. During her childhood, she had always seen him as a man of duty. But as time went on and she entered in the Aerospace Forces, she had slowly realized that some decisions he had to take were morally grey to protect its family.

As for her mother, she alternated small jobs and periods of unemployment. And while her situation was never the best, she was always hopeful that things would get better. What always struck Maria was when she received the letters that said her current contract was not going to be renewed. Her smile accompanied by her saying it was the perfect occasion to try something different.

 **Teploe mesto, no ulitsy zhdut**  
 **Otpechatkov nashikh nog.**  
 **Zvezdnaya pyl' - na sapogakh.**  
 **Myagkoe kreslo, kletchatyy pled,**  
 **Ne nazhatyy vovremya kurok.**  
 **Solnechnyy den' - v oslepitel'nykh snakh.**

As a surprise to even herself, she started to sing along. The fact that she had not forgotten the lyrics brought a smile on her face. There was something satisfying about saying the same words as the singer at the correct time.

 **Gruppa krovi - na rukave,**  
 **Moy poryadkovyy nomer - na rukave,**  
 **Pozhelay mne udachi v boyu, pozhelay mne:**  
 **Ne ostat'sya v etoy trave,**  
 **Ne ostat'sya v etoy trave.**  
 **Pozhelay mne udachi, pozhelay mne udachi!**

But the lyrics reminded her of someone else. Herself. Both at the end of her academy training with her new and spotless dress uniform, and now as an officer of the Human Protection Entity. All that time, always with patches on her shoulders, whether it was an identification number, a squadron emblem, or her blood type.

 **I est' chem platit', no ya ne khochu**  
 **Pobedy lyuboy tsenoy.**  
 **Ya nikomu ne khochu stavit' nogu na grud'.**  
 **Ya khotel by ostat'sya s toboy,**  
 **Prosto ostat'sya s toboy,**  
 **No vysokaya v nebe zvezda zovet menya v put'.**

Joining the Russian Armed Forces then the Entity, fighting on different fronts, leading her own squadron and raising new pilots. All of those were sacrifices that she made during her life to try to come out on top of conflicts. But never did she willingly tried to pay the highest price for a victory. And when it sadly happened on several occasions, it had always changed her in some way to allow her to carry on.

 **Gruppa krovi - na rukave,**  
 **Moy poryadkovyy nomer - na rukave,**  
 **Pozhelay mne udachi v boyu, pozhelay mne:**  
 **Ne ostat'sya v etoy trave,**  
 **Ne ostat'sya v etoy trave.**  
 **Pozhelay mne udachi, pozhelay mne udachi!**

Was she ready to do this again with the pilots under her orders? She had seen all eight of them grow up, and the recent crash and Code Zero Five Zero's amputation reminded her that they could still go away at any moment, without notice. And she was not sure she was ready or not if that were to happen.

However, she was hopeful. She trusted all the security measures that came along large scale operations. In a way, it was the reason they were there. The entire objective of those kinds of preparation exercises was to reduce the likeliness of possibly deadly errors. But risk never disappears, especially with an enemy that has proven its capability to evolve. And if the Board and the Chairman said the truth, the conflict was already nearing the end. Maybe, just maybe, they will all get some real rest as a reward for their efforts.

But it was not really the time to think about this. For now, they still had a lot of work to do and the Klaxosaurs were still an important threat. They had to keep on fighting, for the sake of all those that have already fallen whether they are remembered by someone or not.

She remained in that position for several long minutes, listening with a grin to songs of her past. But it was interrupted by a ringing sound that immediately burst her bubble open and brought her back into the real world. With a groan, she stood back up and reached again for the button of her personal digital assistant.

"What is it?"

"Someone is requesting permission to enter into your office," stated the cold robotic voice. "Officer Kubawashi, to be precise."

"Naomi?"

Those simple words made her jump out of her seat. She hurried towards the door and quickly pressed one of the buttons on the control panel. The panel quickly slid out of the way, revealing a Naomi that looked somewhat lost.

"Are you alright?"

The shared eye contact made Maria very worry about her friend.

"I… I… I need some advice."

* * *

"Am I the only one that noticed something changing with Eighty-Three and Fifty?"

In the calm of the briefing room, the three active crews of Squadron Twenty had been the first to arrive and sit down. They were alone, which created the perfect environment for calm discussion. Twos took the occasion to ask a question that was on his heart for quite a while now. And while nobody answered at first, the overall feeling was that everyone clearly knew what he was talking about.

Finally, it was Nine that said something.

"I have noticed something strange with them as well. I mean I am pretty sure we all have noticed something about them. They have been a bit distant lately, don't you all agree?"

Some nodded, and somehow instinctively turned their heads towards Three-Aught-Five.

"Yes... But they have been through a lot, and they are still going through a lot right now. It is not something that we know anything about."

Her tone was reassuring, or at least trying to reassure her partners about the fate of Twenty Bravo. But it did not seem to be very effective.

"Yeah, but still. Like sometime I feel they are avoiding us as much as they can. I have even seen Eighty-Three hanging out with another squadron."

"For now, it is not our issue."

One-Ten had spoken lowly. He never enjoyed talking things he did not understand, and a look at his face made it clear that he was not enjoying this discussion.

"Yeah… But no. I'll have to disagree with you on that one. I mean, he is literally a member of our squadron. It is our issue. If he… No, if Bravo are not well, then none of us are well. Look at ourselves. What are we doing together away from the training? Nothing! We need to sort things out."

It was rare for Four-Seven to speak in such manner. And in a way it acted like an electroshock to get everyone else to unlock their mouths.

"Maybe that it will get better when they start flying back with us again. We are separated almost all day. It does not help with anything, does it?"

But she was not convinced by this answer.

"And we are not doing anything either."

"Yeah, but when I try to do or say something, nothing happens. And I have talked to Maria about this, but she keeps saying that she is keeping an eye on them. But I am less and less sure about that."

Three-Aught-Five's words were far from helping anyone, but at least there was communication.

"What about Fifty, then? Do we know what she really does when she is not with us?"

"Well it is a bit hard to say. With all the medical examinations she has on top, she does not have a lot of time for herself."

"Sometimes I see her roaming through the hallways. But when I come to her to have a chat, she is always very vague. Says something about being tired and going away somewhere. I doubt it is very true."

They all took turns to say similar things, making them all realize the true scope of what they had all felt internally. And it was worse than what they had all imagined.

From the corridors, several groups of pilots all started to make their way inside, forcing them to lower their voices to avoid any eavesdropping.

"So what do we do now? I mean we can't just go up to them and tell them to stop behaving like that. Any ideas?"

Twos had taken the lead on that case as One-Ten was clearly unwilling to go forward. It was understandable that he did not wish to interfere with something their officer was supposed to handle, but he just could not do anything to prevent the rest from acting.

"Maybe we could flip things around," stated Nine as she held her chin. "Instead of trying to get them involved with what we do, we should be the one getting involved with their tasks. It might show them that we truly stand behind them."

They all took a second to think about the idea.

"But how would that work? They are still working on simulators and Fifty has a lot of personal appointments…" Three-Aught-Five liked the premises of Nine's idea, but still had to ask about the obvious limitations.

"I don't know, I'm just putting down my ideas. Maybe talking about it to Maria, take part in the simulations ourselves or something. There is probably something she can make us do."

They all nodded at the proposition.

"But what about that other squadron Eighty-Three hangs out with? Should we do something about this or not?"

"Do we even know which squadron it is?"

Nine rose up her head slightly over the ones of her squad mates. The room had filled up quite a lot with other squadrons waiting for the upcoming briefing. Her eyes glanced over many heads, recognizing some and not others. She did not really know what she was exactly looking for. Maybe she would recognize a face, but she was not sure of anything.

And then it struck her. Pink hair at the complete opposite of the room from them. It was so obvious that there was no doubt left in her. Quickly, she lowered her head to avoid looking too suspicious.

"So?"

"Other side of the room. Group of six. Around the girl with pink hair. It's them."

"Are you sure?"

Nine nodded.

"Absolutely sure. With that kind of color, there's no way I can be doubting. I don't know which squadron they are supposed to be, though."

Some poked up themselves to see them, but there was not much to see apart from the back of a few heads.

"What are you doing? Get down! You are going to get noticed!"

"Hey we need to see for ourselves."

"Get your heads down! You are going to blow everything!"

But Nines' words were not needed as someone walked on the small stage of the briefing room. All the pilots in the room turned their heads towards him. It was the officer that had given a long speech during the ceremony at the beginning of the exercise. This sight made them all stand up to give him the salute he was entitled to because of his rank.

"Settle down," he said without paying much attention to the crowd standing before him.

In his hand, he had some sort of tablet that he quickly set up on a stand that was waiting for him. With what looked like a small pen, he started interacting with various elements on his screen and, a few seconds later, an image appeared, projected on the wall behind him.

It was a map of a large area of operations. It contained many geographical details such as precise elevation change, hydrography and forests. But much more importantly, there was information related to simulated enemy presence and objectives as well.

And there were a lot of them. It had to be expected, seeing the manpower present for this briefing, but it was still surprising to actually see it.

"Listen up, everyone. This operation will be complex, so you better be paying close attention," he started before turning towards the projected information. "A large concentration of hostile elements has been spotted in the area of operation. Past records show us that the most likely scenario is that of a gathering before an important attack on our positions. This cannot be allowed, and all hostiles must be destroyed. However, their numbers are already so important that a raid by a single squadron will not be effective."

The small stylus he had in his hand suddenly turned into a laser pointer when a red dot started indicating several important elements as he spoke.

"The main target is located in the middle of this valley. It hosts the highest concentration of target and will be attacked by dedicated squadrons carrying only air-to-ground weaponry. Each of them will be escorted by dedicated squadrons. However, the moment the bombing run begins, smaller hostile groups located in a radius of several kilometers will most likely converge in an attempt to support their defenses. It is why several smaller raids will be carried simultaneously to spread their forces as much as possible over the entire AO and make things easier for the main team. The main bomber force will be made of Squadrons Thirteen and Twenty and will be escorted by Squadrons Five, Nine and Sixteen."

Even if they were paying close attention, hearing their numbers was a bit of a surprise. But while some nodded and focused even more on the explanation, others sighed. Those particular types of bombing runs required FRANVs to be loaded with the heaviest of ammunition on all anchor points of the weapon bay, making the relatively nimble machine into a slow brick with barely any agility left. And the worst part was that there was not even the adrenalin rush of being in the heart of combat. Everyone might have been acting like it was an actual operation, but it was just pretend, a rehearsal for something far in the future. Sure, some other squadrons were going to play the role of the flying bad guys, but still, it was a very boring mission in perspective.

"To limit spread during the free fall of the munitions, you will have to arrive at a low altitude to the release point. You will enter the valley by the south and follow it for the ideal launch trajectory. Squadrons Five and Nine will open the way and clear any enemy anti-air elements. Squadron Twenty will follow with Squadron Thirteen behind for a single attack run. Squadron Sixteen will serve as the rear guard."

He then continued, giving more information about other aspects of the operation which did not involve Squadron Twenty. A perfect time to return to whispered discussions.

"Thirteen? Aren't they ones with the super fancy prototype?" asked Twos with a very low voice directly in the ear of his partner.

"Yeah… Are they really trying to bring that thing for a heavy bombing run? With the way it beat us last time, shouldn't it be part of the escort?"

"I don't know, man. I guess they have something else in mind. Maybe they can load something special on it or something…"

But the two immediately stopped when the officer swept his look back towards them. It was clearly not the kind of people that enjoyed hearing people chatting while he was talking. Seeing that all the chatting had stopped, he returned to his explanation.

"All elements must be in the air by thirteen hundred hours and should have reached the area of operations by fourteen hundred hours. An AWACS, callsign Holy Eye, will provide all orders taken by HQ. Any additional details will be transmitted to you by radio if the need ever rises. Understood? Then go to your changing rooms and ready yourself for the start of the mission."

* * *

 **Flight test results**

 **Aircraft n° 13D**

 **Involved personnel: 326 (pilot), 556 (co-pilot)**

 **T 00:00 – FRANV start up**  
 **T 03:23 – FRANV on landing pad**  
 **T 04:02 – Take off**  
 **T 05:27 – Reached cruise speed, heading 045**  
 **T 06:59 – Reached airspace of Weapon Test Range**  
 **T 07:30 – Targeting system, fatal error, error code 003201**

 **Observation report: The tested crew has not displayed any issues with basic handling and cruising. However, difficulties with weapon systems have led to a failure of the targeting system. They were thus not able to launch standard training weapons towards simple targets.**

 **As of now, Pilot 326 and Co-Pilot 556 are not cleared for combat deployment. This may change at a later date based on eventual improvements during further tests. However, it is important to recall that it is unlikely, based on similar past cases, and that the resources of the Entity are scarce and should not be used beyond reason.**

* * *

"So... Let's start from the beginning, but slowly."

Maria tried to sound reassuring as she handed a hot cup of tea to her friend.

"Thanks. Sorry if I go too fast over this, I just don't know what kind of situation I'm in."

Naomi still had in her visible remnants of her former national culture of politeness, something that all showed in one subtle way or another.

"Don't worry. Anyway, I understood the part where your two pilots did… things… But you did not know about it until after Settlement Thirteen was raided by the special forces guys. However, after that it all blurred so explain things step by step."

The older officer sat down at her desk, focused on the words she was about to listen.

"Ok... Huh... I was informed of what had happened just as they stormed the living quarters. I was so scared that something even worse was going to happen. Knowing some of my kids, I feared that one of them would get shot by trying to resist. I was relieved when I was finally able to enter the quarters and was told that not a single cartridge was fired. What I was not happy to see, however, was that everyone had been handcuffed and forced to kneel down on the gravel in the front of the house. And by everyone, I mean eight out of the ten pilots. The two that were missing were those that really interested the guy over at Internal Safety that launched this entire thing."

She stopped to take a sip of the cup that was still radiating heat between her hands. And while she did, Maria was nodding. It was rare to interact with the Entity's Internal Safety as they were too busy handling with all the infractions within the civilian population of each Settlement. But, as with almost everything, there were rumors going about within the corps of officers. The moment someone within a squadron did very bad things, they would jump in like vultures to get themselves the most prestigious type of investigation. And it seemed that arresting a pilot would lead to an almost automatic promotion while putting the handcuffs on the wrists of an officer was a free ticket to a position in the most important sedentary installations. In a way, she was glad she never had to really interact with them, and what she was being told seemed to confirm her feelings.

Naomi finally put down her cup before continuing.

"They had taken them away and cuffed everyone else while they searched the building for something. It took them hours, and I don't even know what they found or picked up. Hours of me not being able to do anything. It was painful for everyone until they found what they wanted and left without an additional word. The nine of us barely had the time to sat down and reflect on what had happened that I immediately received the order to move here for training."

But after that, Maria already knew some of the details.

"So you took off, our squadrons had this simulated fight while in transit then we arrived here and we met in the Officers Lounge. Did I get everything right on this one?"

"Yes... At least, this battle made us think about something else."

"But why didn't you tell me anything when we were at the bar? I know I had my own issues back then, but I could have helped with something."

She simply shook her head from side to side.

"Well I just couldn't speak at the time. Things were not going as badly... And on top of that you talked about the new plane, so I was thinking about something altogether. But now I feel like I don't have a choice anymore."

"It's fine, it's fine. Don't apologize for that. Just keep explaining."

Naomi took a second to breathe and reach for her cup to take another sip.

"I… It was at this point that they let Code Five Five Six and Code Three Two Six go and they were reintegrated into the squadron. Or at least they got back into the group, but they still had to be cleared for active duty. And, well… The results were far from being acceptable for active duty, let alone being close to what was expected. And now the higher-ups keep pressuring into somehow making them better… But I don't know what to do. I feel like I'm constantly under scrutiny, that Internal Safety is constantly watching over me, that they suspect I have something to do with all that is happening."

"What do you mean exactly by that? Did they do something to them that destroyed their abilities."

"They did a memory wipe. Wasn't really surprised, I was fully expecting it after what I had been told, but it was heartbreaking to have them in front of me, completely clueless about who I was. And I don't think their cleaning was made with the intention of being precise. Apart from their codes and the basics of piloting… Nothing."

"I see… But have you told your superiors that all those problems are out of your control? That you cannot do anything about it?"

She shook her head.

"Of course I did, but…" She stopped, rubbing her hands on her face.

"Naomi?"

"I… I… I'm scared, Maria. Scared of what might happen to them."

Her voice had suddenly changed tone. Her hands still in front of her face, she started sobbing. Maria stood up from her desk to kneel down next to her friend and, with all the compassion she had, she surrounded her with her arms.

"Everything is going to be fine, Naomi. Don't worry. Things will work out."

"I… I've read reports… Similar situations…" Through the tears, she had trouble with letting the words out of her mouth. "Pilots underperforming after having their minds wiped. Each time, they've been terminated."

Maria sure was confused by her words.

"You… You mean decommissioned, right?"

Older pilots always see a decrease of their performance over time. When they reach a threshold considered as the lowest acceptable, pilots are decommissioned, trained in another field to become mechanics, security guards or pilots of transport crafts. The only thing she was unsure of, however, was if whether or not all pilots underwent a cleaning of their memories beforehand. But that was not relevant to the fact that she had never heard of young pilots being decommissioned, let alone terminated as Naomi had put it.

"No… Terminated. Lethal injection. They are way too young to be put into some kind of other field."

Maria could not really reply to that. She knew Naomi was not lying, but what she was telling was shocking to say the least. She herself had feared that her pilots would die in operation, but she just could not really imagine fearing that the Entity itself would kill her protégés.

"And… Have you talked to your pilots about this? In one way or the other."

"No… What could I even tell them? That if they do not perform better, they will be strapped to a chair and put down like dogs? There is no more hope left. They might get my head too if they find something they think is even remotely suspicious."

Tears had stopped, replaced by a sad frustration. She just wanted to protect her pilots, but what could she really do about it, alone against her hierarchy?

"What about Hachi then? Is he aware of the situation?"

"Oh he is very much aware. I have told him all of it and he has gone through all the files himself... But he just shrugged it off. Said something about how he had no possible say in that decision. I thought time would have changed him when we started cooperating once again, but no… He only cares about himself that bastard."

Frustration that had quickly turned to anger.

"Woah no need to get angry now… Take a breath, and when you have time, go and talk to your pilots. Don't tell them what they risk but try and encourage them about how they can be better or something similar. Putting too much pressure will only make them less efficient."

Naomi remained silent for a bit. Her face slowly returned to a more natural expression. She was still emotionally shaken, but it was better than being furious.

"Yeah… I guess I better try that. Doesn't cost much to try, huh?"

"Now that's the spirit. And I find it very unlikely the Entity would get rid of pilots that are still physically well."

Naomi stood back up, and Maria quickly followed.

"I… Thanks, Maria… I guess I better go now."

"No problems. If you ever need something else, I'm here."

In a very formal way, both saluted each other and Naomi left the small office. Maria was now alone with herself and a new set of thoughts about what her friend had just told her.

" _Chort!_ "

* * *

« Twenty, Holy Eye. Stay on course Zero One Zero and enter the valley. »

« Understood. Staying on current course. »

Even if this was just training, nobody was really enjoying the experience. They were too heavy, flying too slowly and flying too low, but that was what they had to do, so they had no real choice. Defending themselves was not a possibility, so they had to rely on their escorts to do the job.

« Nine Alpha, this is Twenty Alpha. Is our way clear? Over. »

« Affirmative, Twenty. All visible targets have been eliminated. You are clear to proceed. Out. »

In his cockpit, One-Ten quickly checked his own instruments as the formation of three FRANVs entered the targeted valley. On each side, mountains were rising tall above them, reducing the space they had to maneuver their heavy aircrafts.

« Alpha to all. Be careful with the turning. Ground is closer than it seems. »

The margin of error was small, and he could not afford to lost anyone to a stupid mistake.

« Yeah, yeah... We know. »

Despite the distortion of the radio, One-Ten perfectly recognized the voice of Two-Seven, albeit with a bit of boredom in it. He was not respecting any of the protocols of communication, but the leader just let it slide for now as it was just on their own network. However, he would surely mention it during debriefing.

As they went deeper and deeper into the valley, the traces left by the escort became apparent. On the ground, small clouds of smoke were rising towards the skies, indicating the impact points of training munition on dummy targets that were supposed to represent enemy anti-air capabilities.

« Well it looks like those guys did the cleaning pretty well. »

Two-Seven had really nothing better to do than comment what he was seeing in an attempt to brush the boredom away.

« You know how it goes, Two-Seven. Suddenly more targets will pop up out of nowhere and we are still going to have to dodge everything anyway. »

« Oh come on, Nine. Can't you let a guy dream for five minutes? »

« I am preventing you from getting unrealistic expectations. »

« I swear… You and your pragmatism… »

Suddenly, in front of him, One-Ten's screen came alive with information interpreted by his copilot. So now he had a good reason to intervene and stop the conversation.

« Charlie, Delta, cut the chatter! We have new hostiles approaching. »

« What did I tell you? »

« Alright I got it... »

« I said cut the chatter. Holy Eye, this is Twenty Alpha. We have new hostiles in the valley. Looks like anti-air. Requesting support. »

« Understood, Twenty. Wait one. »

As the radio communication became silent for a few seconds, One-Ten's heartbeat started to rise. And he could feel it. Almost to the point of being uncomfortable. With enemies inbound, although simulated, and uncertainty from their AWACS, it was not a place he really wanted to be in. But it was not something he could control, he just had to endure it.

« Damn, they are opening fire! »

« Evading! Evading! »

The chatter that appeared as the aircrafts started to maneuver away from the projectiles was almost enough to drown the reply from the AWACS operator.

« Squadron Twenty, you are on your own. Five and Nine have left the AO to resupply and Sixteen is currently engaged with hostiles at the back. Proceed with the mission. »

« Understood. »

While One-Ten's response was professional, the same could not really be said for the pilot of Thirteen Charlie.

« Dammit! That thing is too heavy! »

« Keep focused and stay sharp. We are halfway to the objective. We can do this. »

The planes started to move from side to side, changing their position and their altitude to throw off and avoid the simulated projectiles that were zipping past on their head-up displays. But they were not trying to avoid real damages to their vehicles. Rather, it was more about not going through hours of reprimands and additional training that a mission failure would lead to.

« Do they really expect two squadrons to make through this alive? »

« Less talking and more flying, Two-Seven! »

At this point, he was just barking every word in his radio microphone. He had to focus on so much that taking the time to say more words was a luxury he could not afford.

Within all those things, he also had to check the status of the squadron that was following them through the valley. Them going down was as good as his own aircraft being destroyed. In the middle of this chaos, it was a bit of a relief to see all six points still appearing on his radar. He also had access to some basic information through the data link, but the technicalities were not really important in that situation.

With the constant beeping of the various alerts warning of incoming projectiles, he could not look at it for very long before going back to moving the flight stick in all directions. And sometimes, going in all directions was not even a possibility with the rocks on either side, open like a pair of hands ready to swat a group of annoying flies.

« Come on… Quarter of the way to go! »

« Holy Eye to all units. Be advised, you have a group of five bandits incoming, bearing Three Three Zero. ETA two minutes. »

This time, the reactions were not voiced with words, but rather with very annoyed groans. What more could the officers in charge of this exercise do to make their task objective way too hard. But apart from complaining to themselves, they had no choice but to carry on.

With difficulty, they all changed their course to match the winding path formed by the valley, all the while still evading projectiles. At this point, it was not skill that had allowed them to stay without taking any damage for that long. It was just luck.

But then, One-Ten noticed something wrong. On his radar, one of the points that represented the planes of Squadron Thirteen had left its group. In fact, it was getting closer. Fast.

"What the…"

But he really did not have time to let all the words out of his mouth that a shape jumped out from behind a crest, right in the middle of the Squadron Twenty aircrafts. The very distinct shape of the experimental fighter was immediately recognizable for everyone. With its small size, it had an agility that all of them could only dream of at the moment.

But there was not much room to spare in between the massive hulls of the regular FRANVs as the valley narrowed down. And yet, it did not prevent the slick prototype from dancing in the sky in an elegant yet dangerous way.

And everything was fine enough until, in one of its maneuvers, it got close to Charlie. Inverted, its canopy avoided a collision with the canopy of the larger plane by only a handful of meters which, on the scale of the regular FRANVs, was too short of a distance. Of course, the moment Two-Seven realized what was happening, he moved away as much as he could in an attempt to create a safe buffer.

« What the hell are they doing? They almost crashed into me! »

« Two-Seven, stay focused. We are coming up on the objective. »

But the leader was completely ignored. Instead, it was on the general radio network that his subordinate continued to speak.

« Thirteen X-Ray! Are you trying to kill both of us? »

The only reply he got was silence as the machine continued its acrobatics and took the lead of the procession. At this point, it was clear that its crew just wanted things to end as fast as possible, ignoring all its allies in the process.

« Focused, Two-Seven! We are almost at the objective. »

« Dammit! »

In the background of his communication was a faint sound. He was hitting something, most probably the canopy of his cockpit out of pure frustration and anger.

It was not very long until they all took the final turn, bringing in sight their target. On the ground, there was an extremely large number of simulated enemies, waiting to be destroyed for the purpose of the exercise. On his screen, One-Ten could see the information displayed changed as his co-pilot started to calculate targeting data. With the constant shaking and rumbling of the large engines, he could not hear or feel the doors of the weapon bay opening, but a small flashing light placed on the dashboard was all he needed to see to know that the bombs were now exposed to the wind.

In front, far in the distance, the experimental plane had already pulled up and was orbiting the objective, waiting for its partners that were still way behind in the valley. For now, it was no longer the center of attention.

« Squadron Twenty incoming on target. ETA ten seconds. »

« Copy that, Twenty. You are cleared to engage. Weapons free, weapons free. »

There were several seconds of silence on the radio network before the fateful moment.

« Twenty Alpha, bombs away, bombs away. »

« Twenty Charlie, bombs away, bombs away. »

« Twenty Delta, bombs away, bombs away. »

The instant the bombs unlatched from the hardpoints, the weight of the FRANVs was immediately reduced to just a fraction of what it was only a few seconds earlier. And moments later, the enemy targets disappeared in a theoretical ball of fire.

There was a sudden sensation of happiness as their planes regained the handling they had all been craving for hours, but it was not enough to counterbalance the anger in Two-Seven. But it seemed that he knew there was no use of trying to pursue them to yell in the radio. So, he just put himself in formation with the rest of his squadron, mumbling in his oxygen mask and waiting for further instructions.

Below, the rest of Squadron Thirteen reached the target as well and dropped their own bombs, making the last remaining contacts disappear from radar. When they rejoined with their prototype partner, nothing was left, which prompted the AWACs operator to start speaking.

« Holy Eye to all units. Enemy targets have all been destroyed. Disengage and RTB. »

Hearing this made everyone breathe out a sigh of relief. Their hearts were still beating fast and adrenalin was still pumping through their veins, but they were slowly coming down from their high. Yet none of them said anything over the local radio. They were tired, their bodies ached and their emotions were not the best for a calm discussion. Despite the roar and rumble of the powerful engines, there was a heavy silence floating over them as they changed their course back towards where they had come from. It was better to wait for the debriefing to talk about things.

But they were not aware that they were being watched.

* * *

 _"So? What's your take on them?"_

 _"They are as experienced as they look, that is certain. They know how to fly. But they have some trouble adapting when things go out of the range of what they know."_

 _"Do you think they will be useful to us?"_

 _"I will have to meet them to see for myself."_

* * *

 **Welcome and thank you for reading the seventh chapter of Discoveries.**

 **I wonder how many people had understood the "twist" that bridges this chapter with the latest. In a weird way, I always found weird that in the original show, APE goes through the trouble of brainwashing the couple because they had sex, but without taking care of a possible baby. Now I am aware changing that will have very important consequences for the characters, and this has been obvioulsy taken into account for what has been planned next.**

 **As always, I want to remind everyone that I will take the next month or so to work on my GATE story, so don't hesitate to jump over there to see more of my content.**

 **Anyway, thank you all for reading and I'll see you in the next chapter.**


	8. Ouverture

"Two-Seven! Please stop!"

"I won't stop until I've seen their faces! They almost killed Twos and myself, dammit!"

It was a rare scene to see in the corridors of the hangars. Pilots of the same squadron, still in their flight suits, almost fighting between each other as one was trying to make its way towards the hangar of another squad.

"Stop! We shouldn't meet them."

"I don't care if we should or shouldn't. I want an apology!"

Of course, each time they passed next to other squadrons that had already changed into their uniforms, they attracted attention. The yelling and fast walking were not really helping going unnoticed.

Behind them was the rest of the team, barely able to keep up with the fast pace of their squad mates.

"I beg you, Two-Seven. You don't know anything about them."

"The only thing I need to know is that they got out of their way to almost crash into me and Twos."

Despite all her words, Three-Aught-Five just could not do anything but to follow him to try to prevent him from doing something even more stupid on top.

When they arrived in front of a door with the number thirteen taped on it, she did not even have the time to blink that Two-Seven had already starting angrily banging on the door.

"Come on! Open up! I know you're in there!"

At first, there was no reply.

"See? They are not here. So pl…"

But she could not finish her sentence as he started hitting the panel again. The rest of the team remained silent, as there really was not much they could do. And just like the first time, the door did not open. It did not really help with Two-Seven's anger.

"You cowards! Don't want to face the consequences, huh? You better..."

As he was barking, the panel quickly slid out of the way, taking everyone by surprise. In front of almost all the members of the twentieth squadron was now standing a young pilot, way shorter than all of them.

"Is there something wrong?" asked the boy almost naively.

"Who is the pilot of Thirteen X-Ray?"

Two-Seven had asked his question with the tone of an order filled with an anger that had boiled inside himself for hours.

"Huh… I am. Can I hel…"

The instant he heard the confirmation, the older pilot immediately reached for the collar of the younger one.

"Listen to me, you brat. You might be having a whole lot of fun with that fancy toy of yours, but you gotta learn to fly in your lane unless you want to kill someone!"

Obviously, this immediately caught the attention of the three other boys that were still in the changing room. They all immediately started to rush in an attempt to help their friend, but they did not have any option against a pilot several heads taller than them.

"I… I don't know what you are talking about."

"Oh? You don't know? Well let me tell you what you don't know. You almost killed four people with one maneuver! You better have an explanation to why you came so close."

"But I had everything in control."

It was the answer that finally made everything boil over. With his strength, it was easy for Two-Seven to violently push the boy against the wall. At this point, the entire audience finally tried to separate the two. However, it is hard to move something fueled by strong emotions.

"Don't give me this! The last time I thought I was in complete control, I ended up stalling my engines and I almost crashed into a Settlement! So you better apologize right here or I will…"

"Let go of my Darling immediately!"

The sudden appearance of a female voice made everyone turn their head. Standing in the middle of the corridor was a woman, two small horns poking of the unnatural pink hair. And while most stood confused, Two-Seven was just too angry to be in any other state.

"This is not your problem."

"If you have a problem with my Darling, then you also have a problem with me. So let. Him. Go."

"Oh I see how it is," replied the angry pilot before dropping off his prey and fully turning around to face this new challenger. "Let me guess, you are the co-pilot of that pathetic kid that almost killed myself, my partner and, if I'm correct, yourself. You better have something good to say for his defense or this could turn ugly."

The other crew members of Squadron Thirteen immediately reacted, helping their partner back on its feet while the hostile pilot was turning them his back.

"You should look at yourself before calling my Darling pathetic, you weakling."

With his height advantage of a good head, he just could not take those threats seriously.

"Unless he gives me an apology, I'll keep calling him however I want. And right now, he is pathet…"

The helmet Two-Seven was still wearing on his head only did one thing up to this point. Give him a false sense of protection and security. He did not see her rising her fist, but he definitively felt the heavy hit on the middle of his face. The explosion of pain in his nose immediately made him back off, a reflex bringing his hands up to cover what felt like a crushed stump.

"Ah dammit!" he yelled. But before he was even able to make a step back towards the girl, Three-Aught-Five slipped in between the two, arms wide open, in an attempt to stop the fight.

"At least it seems that your friend is smarter than you," commented the pink-haired woman with a small smile appearing on the side of her mouth.

In between his fingers, Two-Seven started to feel a strange sensation. Something hot, a liquid, dripping down and sticking on whatever it was entering in contact with. And by just looking down, the red marks on his hand were giving him the answer to a question he did not have to ask.

"Please, Two-Seven, stand down. Just please..."

As much as she tried to keep her position as a buffer, Two-Seven had no trouble shoving her out of his way to get a free path toward his new target.

"Oh you're going to pay for this."

With only a single step, he had bridged the gap and was in range to launch his own punch. But his fist only met air at the place where her head should have been. Before he realized that she had dodged by a few centimeters to the side, she latched on to his extended arm. He did not know it, but it was already over. The next second, he was lying flat on the ground, his stomach burning in pain from the powerful kick he had just received.

"This is what happens to those that try to hurt my Darling."

This statement brought down a heavy silence upon the audience from both squadrons, as well as all the other pilots that had gathered out of curiousness and blocking the entire narrow corridor.

"Coming through, coming through."

Of course, such a situation was quick to attract armed guards. But making their way to the scene of the fight was not an easy task, pushing their way through the thick crowd. Just hearing them coming was enough for the woman to step away, leaving Two-Seven free to stand back on his feet, albeit not without difficulties.

With their tough looking uniforms and dedicated training, they had no trouble creating an effective separation between all the groups.

"Disperse immediately and return to your assignments!" shouted what was probably their leader with an integrated loudspeaker. It was aimed at the general public that complied with an overall feeling of disappointment for not really seeing much.

The members of Squadrons Thirteen and Twenty, however, could not move. Surrounded by armed guards, all where feeling uneasy in some way. It was merely an angry fist fight that had to be separated, yet they had sent in a full squad equipped with guns and ammunition of the lethal type.

"Are you just going to stand there? She broke my nose, dammit!" shouted Two-Seven toward the guard leader, still keeping his hand over his face to prevent himself from bleeding all over the place.

But the tall figure, its face protected by an armored mask, did not even acknowledge the words. It had more important things to say with on its radio.

"Oxide, Disciple Two One. Situation is under control. Elements have been pacified. Awaiting instructions, over." There was quite a long pause. "Copy that, Oxide. Disciple Two One out."

"Can someone actually tell what is happening here?"

It was only at this moment that One-Ten stepped back into his role as Squadron Leader. Things had gotten out of hand for him, and this was the opportunity for him to take back control, but the guard had something else to say.

"We are escorting you back to your designated changing room and then to your debriefing."

"And of course you aren't going to do anything about..."

"Shut up, Two-Seven. We're moving out."

One-Ten had barked his words to interrupt his subordinate. Now that he had taken back control, he was not going to let anyone under his command do another stupid thing. So, under the pressure of the armed men, the entire group of Squadron Twenty was forced to go down the corridor the other way around.

"Hey, are you alright, Two-Seven?"

Twos was worried seeing his partner still holding on his face and breathing with some light difficulty.

"No, I'm not! Dammit... And Eighty-Three hangs out with them. What the hell is wrong with him?"

"I imagine he did not meet them by rushing and threatening to beat them up."

"I was just asking for an apology... They almost killed us back there!"

"Yeah... Asking..."

Two-Seven and Twos might have had the reputation of being of being the jokers of the group, but here the pilot of the duo was clearly not in the mood for banter.

"Shut up... Who the hell is even that girl? She is not normal."

Nobody really replied, as nobody had any answer to give. They all had suspicions and theories, but they also all knew that sharing would not be helpful in any way. So they kept silent, only hearing the metal of the guards' body armor clicking as they walked.

And from afar, they were still being watched. Rubbing his neck, the boy only had one thing to comment.

"I have a very bad feeling about them…"

* * *

"I must be honest with you two. Things are not looking good for you so far." From the two pilots sitting in front of her, no answer came. She was not sure if it was because they had nothing to say, or if they were too scared to say anything. "You already know that you are behind schedule. And by that, I mean that you have barely reached half of your objectives." Naomi was standing behind her desk, her hands holding tightly the back of her office chair. She could perfectly see the two, their heads lowered, looking at their feet. They were not comfortable, but to tell the truth, neither was she. "Is there something wrong happening that I do not know about? If something is wrong and you need help, you have to tell me."

There was a long pause. Kokoro and Mitsuru shared an unsure look, silently asking themselves questions that Naomi could not hear. Then, finally, the boy raised his look towards his officer.

"It's… It's that we don't really know who we are… Who we really are."

Naomi's heart skipped a beat. She had feared that they would start to understand, and here they were starting to doubt.

"I… Uhh… What do you mean by that? You already know everything you have to know, so I do not see wha…"

"But we want to know more."

"There is nothing more to say."

"We keep hearing that we have been taken…" Speaking out emboldened Kokoro enough that she almost jumped up from her seat, sending the chair several inches backwards. "We keep hearing that we did something bad, that we have been punished. We want the truth!"

Naomi tightened her grip on her own seat.

"You can't handle the truth! Whoever you were, whatever you did… It does not matter now anymore. What matters is that there will not be any problems if you go through training without issues."

"But how can we train if we cannot trust those we are supposed to follow?"

"Does that mean you do not trust me?"

Naomi did not like this. The situation had reached a stalemate where no one would reply to the opposition's statements. If she were to speak, everything would crumble, and the consequences would be terrible for everyone involved. Even simply telling them that she cannot say anything would probably lead them to ask even more questions.

"We don't know… That's the problem."

"You want the truth? Fine… The truth is that I do not know anything either. I am certain that if you asked me anything, I would be blocked by my lack of credentials."

"So there is no way for us to know reality? We just have to continue on without looking backwards?"

"Sadly, this is what I recommend. Focus on something that is currently happening, and you will have no more worries about things that do not matter."

Silence. For but a few seconds, things seemed calm inside the office. But inside the minds, it was the total opposite. Ideas were clashing, hopes were crushed and in the middle of it all, truth was getting more and more overshadowed.

The pilots shared a look and a nod before standing up.

"If this is how things are," said Mitsuru, "then I believe it is a good time for us to take our leave."

Both saluted their officer and turned around to walk out of the office. They all knew nothing useful had come out of this conversation. But they were all playing pretend just to keep things stable for just a bit longer.

"Does she know?"

Outside, the rest of their team had been waiting for them.

"It's… It's hard to say. She says she does not really know what has happened, but she kept pushing us towards getting better results in training."

Kokoro's response to Goro was enough to make all of them suspicious. But before anyone could really say anything else, Ichigo waved her hand, suggesting the group to move away from the closed door and back towards the elevators.

"Did she say anything else?"

"We asked her to tell us the truth…"

"And?"

"She told that we cannot handle the truth. Whatever that means."

"It means it is true." In an almost unanimous movement, all turned their head toward Zero Two. "It means it is all true and that there is perhaps even more behind it… We do not have much time left."

* * *

"We are the most powerful military force in the history of man. Every fight is our fight. Because what happens over here, matters over there. We do not get to sit one out. Learning to use the tools of modern warfare is the difference between the prospering of our people, and utter destruction. We could not give freedom to everyone. But we have developed the methods and the know how to acquire it. And that, my friends, is worth more than all the pockets of Magma. Sure, it matters who has got the bigger stick, but it matters a hell of a lot more who is swinging it."

The best way to describe the meeting room of the Entity's Board was cold luxury. Marble extracted more than a century ago covered the entire surface of the floor and ceiling, while the walls were all made of crystal-clear panels, revealing the beauties of the outside to the occupants of the room.

All of them were gathered around a large circular table, their uniforms of white and gold making them blend in with their environment. Most, if not all, were wearing masks, the reminders of an old time where keeping their identity secret was an essential element for the highest members of the organization. Some were seeing this as tradition, a base for the newer protocols and practices of the future. But for others, the wish of anonymity was something still real in their hearts.

And among the latter was the Chairman. None but a very select few knew his real identity, and most only had the extremely complex mask and uniform to base their memories upon. However, despite all of this, its figure was standing strong in the middle of the meeting room as he declared his speech to all the other members of the board.

"We have reached a key moment in our history, gentlemen. The final stage of our struggle is finally coming to an end. In only a few days you will all see, from your windows and your monitors, hundreds of pilots taking off to face our enemy for one last battle, and for the first time in the last century we have the advantage. By the time they will be done, the largest nest of Klaxosaurs in history will be nothing than a crater, the center of their system will be burning down, and we will have taken back our planet."

A whisper of agreement quickly circled around the table as Board members nodded. They all had their own personal reasons to hate the blue monsters, but the joy of their upcoming destruction was widely shared. However, it seemed that one had something else on his mind.

"But then what comes afterwards?"

This question, as simple as it seemed, was enough to turn all heads in the direction of the one that had asked it.

"What comes afterwards?"

"Well we keep talking about how to fight the Klaxosaurs, and now you are telling us that the fight is almost over. So what gives?"

"Well I can tell you that, Admiral. We will be the only one left, with an entire planet worth of land and energy to settle. We will have road to build, infrastructure to restore and we will have to oversee everything."

"And what about all the equipment that will no longer be useful?"

This question came from the opposite side of the table, where the civilian part of the Board was sitting. The Chairman quickly turned around to answer.

"Very good question, Chief Engineer. But you should probably not doubt the speed and consistency of progress. We already have the new generation of combat equipment on plan, leaving you with tons upon tons of steel and wires to recycle and to use. And truth be told, one day we will find a new force that will try to attack us. And we must stand ready for any possibility." Another wave of agreement swept through all those at the table. "But it is not good to get too ahead of ourselves. Now is a good time to… take inventory. General."

The Chairman pointed towards one of the military leaders who stood up. After some interactions with the set of buttons that was before him, fancy projections appeared in the middle of the circle of Board members to illustrate his words.

"The upcoming operation will require the use of twenty fully equipped squadrons to destroy the main Klaxosaur colony. We are positive that the core of the Klaxosaur species-wide neural system is located inside, and that its destruction will lower the threat level enough for us to sweep out any remaining hostile creature within two weeks. The area has an extreme density of Klaxosaurs, making any attack impossible at first glance. But we have enough resources to punch right through. By neutralizing priority targets along this path, squadrons can open a clear path to the target." As the General talked, his graphics changed to reflect the progression of events he was describing. At this point, it had turned to a map of the area where the fighting was soon about to take place in. "This open crack in the ground leads to a vast array of caves that host even more hostiles and the core. Codename Princess. The objective is to get a N-class bomb down here, detonate it, eliminate a high number of Klaxosaurs and destroy the Princess."

This announcement was met with the reaction of dumbfounded silence. While the Board was made from a mix of representatives from the various civilian and military branches of the Entity, everybody had clearly understood what was happening.

"Are you crazy?" finally commented a member from the logistic branch. "You want to put a N-class on a FRANV?"

But it was the Chairman who stepped in to reply.

"It is not that we want it. It has already been done. The FRANV Mark Two is no longer a prototype. We finally have all the data we need to start production. Why do you think we have been working so hard to develop a smaller airframe with much more advanced control systems? This location has been continuously surveyed for decades. You would be surprised by how many drones we were able to send there without issue."

"The only physical obstacle in our way is the opening itself that is not wide enough, even for a smaller plane. Using a larger opening would take us more time and force us to dive deeper into hostile territory. So a ground team will be dropped in to blast the way open for the FRANV Mark Two that will go in there."

"But by the time they get back out, wouldn't the Klaxosaurs have the time to neutralize the bomb? They just have to crush the communication system of the detonator..."

"For now, this is not your issue. But don't worry. This has been taken into account. Overall, our casualty figure is expected to be around forty-two percent of the deployed forces. It's a sacrifice, but it is necessary." While many board members were not paying much mind to that detail, some seemed visibly disturbed by that thought. It was not really the fact that pilots were going to die that was the problem. It is to be expected to have casualties in war. But such a high number of casualties to escort a suicide mission seemed too much. However, if the chairman had decided it was bound to happen, who were they to oppose it alone? "The operation will be ready to be launched in five days."

Silence fell on the room again as the General sat back down and the fancy animations disappeared, leaving only the Chairman standing.

"This is the time for heroes. A time for legends. History is written by the victors. Let's get to work."

* * *

The library of the Garden can be both a very wonderful place and a room full of boredom, depending on who you ask. Many of the pilots, regardless of their age, have seen it as the latter. At best, they would tell you that they can go there to find some story to read to pass the time, but at worst they would completely ignore it to focus on other and more interesting activities.

However, if you were looking for something in particular and approximately knew where to look, then the library could quickly become a place full of treasure awaiting to be found. This is what led Eighty-Three to spend a lot of time there, piecing together as much information as he could find. And by pushing to the side all the books and records on irrelevant subjects, it did not leave much to look through, making his task a bit easier.

Although some pieces of information were obviously missing, it was enough to patch together something that vaguely felt like a backstory for the Entity. Something about powers collapsing in front of a large threat and people banding together to face that threat. And obviously, the Entity was depicted as the best hope of humanity, doing no wrong as it saved all that it could.

It was hard to tell how much of it was actually true, how much were lies and what was tweaked to fit the agenda. Sometimes, the name of a country or the name of a person would appear, but without much context to make anything useful. Instead, with earbuds in his ears and more classical music playing, Eighty-Three had turned to something else.

Maps.

Maps of all kinds, shapes and sizes were available to those that wished to consult them. Yet few ever made that request. What most interested the pilot was the important database of satellite pictures. On the small computer keyboard, he was quick to enter the coordinates of the crash site that he had remembered by heart.

In his memory, the site was this enclosed space of ruined buildings and vegetation, where the two places where they had hidden were opposite of each other. He knew that there were things beyond the few streets, but he could not really say he was expecting anything in particular. Yet there he was, his heart skipping a beat when the distinct shade of the ruined church appeared on his monitor. It was hard to look at it and not think about all those that lived inside, oblivious to all that was happening outside of their safe settlement.

But there was also everything else. Everything that was outside of the small plaza was part of the unknown. From the layout of the streets and the shapes of the building, Eighty-Three could only imagine what had happened there and what was currently happening. Maybe there were more people living in those buildings as an extension of the church settlement, maybe they were full of interesting objects to discover, or maybe they were just empty shells of an era gone for more than a century. As he moved away from the center of the town, buildings started to change shape and size, to the point where they seemed to look like the industrial facilities of the Entity. Those sights of the old industries were most probably empty as well, stripped of all valuables either through their looting by people seeking tools of survival or through pure and reckless destruction during combat.

He kept looking at those satellite images for so long, not paying any attention to the passing time, his mind wondering off to come up with explanations to all the details that caught his eye, however small they might have been. He only stopped when a strange shape appeared into view. A long dark strip not yet overrun by vegetation, next only to a few small buildings that it dwarfed in size. The white paint that covered had almost completely faded with time, but the shapes and patterns were distinctive enough for Eighty-Three to immediately recognize a former runway.

"I knew you'd be there."

The sudden sensation of someone pulling off one of his earbud made Eighty-Three jump in his chair and turn around. And apparently, it seemed that Fifty enjoyed doing that kind of prank very much as she started to laugh her heart out.

"Ah, dammit! Can't you just tell that you are there or something."

"Well I finally managed to sneak up on someone for the first time since I got that damn chair. You have to be more aware with all the noise I make." While she was very much so amused, it was a bit annoying for Eighty-Three to be interrupted at the exact moment he had finally found something very interesting. "What were you doing to be that much focused on a screen anyway?"

From where she was, she did not have a direct line of sight on the device her pilot was using, and the wheelchair was far from making it easy to move around the relatively small space.

"I… I was looking at where we crashed back there… Everything there was so different that it remained on my mind all that time."

He did not have to say anything more to get his point across. After all, she had been down there with him, albeit without being conscious for most of it. However, it seemed that she was feeling a bit of disapproval about all of it.

"I don't know if it's a good idea keeping our head in the past like that, Eighty-Three… Everyday, every morning I have to face the consequences of those past events. Shouldn't we be looking forward instead? I feel like you are bringing yourself down with all of this."

"No… It's just… It's just that I am curious. I know I won't really get any answers to all the questions I asked myself back there, but I still want to try to learn something new about our past and the world around us. I don't want to find myself some excuses for the crash or anything, I just want to know to look forward better."

"And what did you find, then?"

"Not much… I just have the feeling that those that lived before the Entity were not that much different from us."

For now, it was better to keep her in the dark. Until everything clicked into place, it was safer for everyone this way.

"Hey, maybe one day you will understand all of that, but you should clear your head once in a while, no?"

"Eh… You are starting to sound like Three-Aught-Five. I am fine, I'm telling you. Hell, I am doing this to break off the monotony of the simulator sessions…"

"Well if that's so, then I have good news for you."

Eighty-Three raised a curious eyebrow. The way she had suddenly changed tone was off, suddenly acting as if something great had just happened that he was unaware off.

"What are you talking about?"

"You don't know? Hmm… I'd thought Maria would have sent you a message on your communicator. Not usual for her to…"

"The point, please."

"We are going back to real jets in two days."

Those words stopped him dead in his tracks.

"What?"

"We have been cleared for a real test. It's earlier than originally planned, but apparently if everything is fine we will be cleared for combat on the spot."

"That's… That's great."

At first, he did not know how to react. There was a strange sense of joy and success at first. Despite all the obstacles in their way, they had succeeded in bringing themselves back up to the level of all the others. Yet there was something out of place. He had spent the last weeks learning about lies from the Entity. What was the guarantee that what Fifty said was the complete truth?

"Hey, something is wrong?"

She had noticed his reaction, or rather lack thereof.

"Nothing… It just feels a bit surreal right now. It's been so long since… well the crash…"

"Yeah. I felt a bit like this when Maria told me. I am really excited about it right now!"

Her voice was full of enthusiasm, each word carrying such a positive energy that he could not help but start to smile himself. For the first time since he carried her out of the wreck, he felt that she was really happy with things. And maybe she was right to be this optimistic. Maybe that in the end, everything was going to be alright.

"Have you told the others yet? Maybe we could celebrate it together."

"Not yet. I mean, I only got the news just before coming to see you. But really I'll only celebrate once I get my prosthetic installed. This damn chair is going to drive me insane at some point."

Even when mentioning something that was an extreme annoyance to her, she still managed to keep herself smiling. It was probably a consequence of some other treatment she was also undergoing, as guilt undermined her performance during the earliest phases of testing.

Slowly, Eighty-Three's attention started to shift as they continued their chatter. His mind was wondering back in the past, towards the events that had defined the path he was walking on. Fifty's smile was making him ask a question to himself. Did he take everything too negatively? All the events he had witnessed, all the information he had discovered, all the people he had talked to… His entire struggle to find the truth… Did he really find it, or did he latch onto the first theory that crossed his mind and convinced himself it was the reality of things?

The more he was thinking about it, the more he felt as if the dots started to link up in his head. In a lot of topics, the Entity was not actively lying and spreading falsehoods, but simply not giving information that was not relevant to regular pilots anyway. But his wondering mind was brought back to the ground when he felt some rumbling in his pocket.

Fifty watched him as he pulled out his communicator to read the message he had just received. Of course, with the context, she was expecting something in particular.

"Is that Maria?" she asked as she tried to take a peek at the tiny screen. But she could not see anything but his face freezing. "Eighty-Three? Is… Is something wrong?"

Instead of replying, he stood up. Whatever he had seen, he was not believing it.

"I'm sorry, that's great and all but… But I have to go. If you see the others before dinner, tell them about it."

He barely finished his sentence that he already disappeared through the door, leaving the computer and all the other documents behind him. At first, he was walking but quickly enough he started to jog. A jog that had become a run by the time he had reached the nearest set of elevators. Mashing the buttons on the wall controls were clearly not helping making the lift come any quicker, yet there he was, pressing the button repeatedly until the doors finally opened.

As the elevator started to take him down to the barracks, he pulled out his communicator again, just to be sure that what he had read was real.

* * *

 **16:41  
Monday**

 **One message by: Code 016**

 **"We have updates on Ko. And Mi. Things are not turning good. You must come to see us. We need to act quickly or we will all be in great danger."**

* * *

 **Human Protection Entity Research and Development Division**

 **Report n°8742-[REDACTED] : Project Leviathan**

 **Date : [REDACTED]**

 **Testing ordinance has been detonated at the [REDACTED] research facility this morning at 1000 hours. The detonation took place five thousand meters below ground, the expected depth of use according to operation guidelines.**

 **The N-class warhead delivered a force equivalent to [REDACTED] Megatons and created a series of earthquakes of magnitude [REDACTED] on the Richter scale that were later measured seismograms of various facilities around the world.**

 **During the detonation, all rocks in a radius of [REDACTED] kilometers have been blasted into chunks smaller than five meters in diameter. This caused the destruction of all hardened targets scattered in the artificial recreation of the [REDACTED] cave system.**

 **Radiation fallout has been measured to be minimal in the affected areas. Standard NBCR guidelines have been enforced during incursion within the detonation area and no signs of any illness or other negative impacts on crew health have been noted. Main concern about survivability of the detonation is currently the geological instability of the ground which could lead to damage and/or injury to any equipment and personnel going into the area after the detonation.**

 **The detonated warhead had dimensions of [REDACTED] by [REDACTED] meters, including equipment only for testing purposes. By all accounts, the device will fit into the weapon bay of the experimental aircraft.**

 **As planned, no release mechanism has been installed on the warhead.**

 **With current production speeds, it will take [REDACTED] days to produce ordinance ready for deployment. All teams are currently on standby for further orders from the Board.**

* * *

"Well finally here you are."

Eighty-Three was visibly exhausted when he dashed into the barrack of Squadron Thirteen. Sweat was still rolling down his forehead as he took back his breath under the look of all the eyes of the thirteenth team. And with the tone of Ichigo's remark, the tone was immediately set even though he still lacked all other information.

"What… What do I need to know that is so important?" he finally asked after catching his breath.

All the pilots looked at each other. They already knew, but it seemed that they were unsure from the way of telling it to him.

"Kokoro and Mitsuru had a meeting with our officer earlier today about their performance and everything leads us to believe that… How to say it?"

Ichigo's explanation was stopped cleanly as she doubted over her choice of words. But in those kinds of situation, they should have seen Zero Two coming with her brutal honesty.

"That Kokoro and Mitsuru will soon be eliminated for wasting resources and for being potential threats to the internal stability of the Entity."

And while the two concerned were sitting in the corner looking lost, Eighty-Three was frozen in place out of shock. After all that joyful conversation with Fifty where hope had started to reappear, this was just a pure slap to the face.

"What… What do you mean?"

"Lethal injection. They load a needle full of chemicals, they inject them in their arm and five minutes later they are dead. As simple as that. Body bags and a trip to the incinerator are cheaper than funding useless training missions."

There was a strange feeling in her voice. The sort of calm that comes with someone that had become used to something after a long exposure.

"And it also means that we need to do something very soon," added Hiro who looking worriedly at Kokoro and Mitsuru. Being told the grim things you risk over and over again does not really help in those kinds of stressful scenarios. "Seeing their upcoming program, our time frame is of only a few days."

"But what if they actually succeed in bringing themselves back on their feet? Don't they have a chance that way?"

But before anyone else could have any opportunity to even think and be hopeful about it, Zero Two's head nod immediately brought everyone back down.

"No. If they received a warning, then it's already too late. Believe me I know what I am talking about."

"And why that? How are you so sure about everything you are saying?"

"Because I have seen it before… Pilots coming to see if they were able to fit with me, failing to do so and then suddenly disappearing before someone else took their place. When it happened for the fifth time, I finally started to look up what was happening. And situations were the same as this one."

This time, that statement was news for everyone, and they all turned their heads towards her, surprised and shocked, especially the other members of Squadron Thirteen. They had just assumed Zero Two had learned this recently through her own research, not that she had lived through this scenario before.

"So what do we do, then? You should know this as well, no?"

Miku could not sound anything else other than unsure. There was not much she could do alone anyway.

"Well if someone here has a plan, then we should execute it without waiting any longer." Zero Two turned her head back to Eighty-Three. "I imagine that you have something in mind after all your research."

"I do. And it should not be very complicated to put in place."

"And what is that plan?" Ichigo seemed unsure as well, but more out of caution than fear or doubt. "As of now, it is hard to see any kind of solution."

"Simple. We all get the hell out of here. We set up a distraction, and as stuff starts to go down you rush for one of the transport helicopters and you go away. Just got to make sure you smash the tracking equipment and they will not be able to follow us. Nothing too complicated."

"You want us to fly one of the transports? We have not been formed to do that. We will crash before we can even leave the facility."

Some head nodded, showing those that thought Goro had a point.

"We are able to pilot planes five times as large and as heavy, it should not be that hard. They have a stick, a dash with the same kind of dials than those we know, an engine… You get my point. And really, Mitsuru and Kokoro are the most in danger and they can't fly safely. I don't really see any other alternative on that end."

"And what about your own partners? They made quite the impression earlier today. Have you planned to put them in the loop?"

Ikuno's remark made Eighty-Three turn his her in a confused manner.

"Quite the impression? Did they do something?"

"Well it was a guy… How did she called him? Two-Seven? Ring any bells." Eighty-Three quickly nodded. "Well when we all came back from sortie, he showed up to… How to say it nicely? To try to get excuses out of Hiro by force."

This statement left him completely dumbfounded. Out of all the members of the squadron, Two-Seven might have been the easiest to unnerve, but something really bad must have happened to spark all of this. As further explanations came around, things started to make a bit more sense, but that event had happened, and now he had to deal with the consequences.

"I don't trust them," concluded Goro. "If we just talk to them about this, there's a risk they could blow everything up just in spite."

"Or because we are planning something that would act against the Entity…"

Out of everyone he knew, One-Ten was probably the one that followed the Entity doctrine the most. And with him as leader, every order had to be executed precisely, nothing asked by Papa was impossible and failure was unthinkable. It was not much of a stretch to imagine him running to Internal Safety to tell everything out of pure loyalty and devotion.

"Nobody outside this room must learn what we are doing or what we will do, under…"

"Actually…" Ichigo was cut short by Eighty-Three that had something else on his mind. "There is someone that I trust that I want to bring along for the ride. My copilot. She was down there with me after the crash, I carried her to extraction and I trust her. For now, she is in the dark about all of this."

Again, many seemed unsure about this.

"You trust her… but can we?"

"She trusts me. I know she will follow me if I do anything. Plus, a lone co-pilot in a wheel chair without her lifelong partner? It would be a pure death sentence for her. If you trust me, then you must trust her."

The silence that followed was long and heavy. All the pilots were in their thoughts, weighing the positives and the negatives and by running various scenarios in their head about how everything would probably finish. And it seemed that Zorome was the first one to reach a conclusion.

"Well debating who comes along is nice and all, but if we are going to get away from here. Where are we going to go?"

The question clearly did not fall on deaf ears as Eighty-Three turned his head towards Zorome with a small grin.

"Oh, don't worry about that. I know a place…"

* * *

Hello and thanks for reading the eighth chapter chapter of Discoveries.

 **Let's be honest, this chapter was mainly set up for what is next, but I feel like it would be misguided to rush things and go immediately to the action sequences and plot twists. I also feel like it's a good opportunity to develop the world a bit more by giving some small details here and there.**

Anyway, thank you all for reading, and I'll see you in the next chapter.


	9. Ready To Rock

**AUDIO FILE WF-206902021539**

" _Start recording. Date is February second, twenty sixty-nine. Current time is three forty in the afternoon..._

 _We did it. After all this time, after all those troubles, we finally did it. A healthy baby in perfect physical condition, coming straight out of a completely artificial process. Out of chemicals, we have managed to create life..._

 _I still remember calling Johnson completely crazy when he made the proposition to the Board. At that time, thinking that we could just create life like that was ludicrous, especially in a situation where the production of sexual hormones had already gone completely down the drain. I was not the only one to think that, but because it was the only real idea anyone had, the Board decided to throw all the resources it had at us to make it happen._

 _The Chairman had insisted that cloning was out of the question, and no subject was deemed fitting to act as a surrogate mother. In theory, the only process that could have worked was to develop a completely artificial method and to scale it up to replenish our lost manpower. So that's what we tried to do._

 _And now, I can assure that we succeeded. Ever since we pulled him out of the artificial womb, I have had a strange feeling in my heart. I cannot really describe it. Proud? Maybe. Happy? Probably. Is this something that new parents feel after the birth of a child?_

 _We have yet to find a real name to the boy. For now, he is only known as Code Zero Zero One, and a number would not be an appropriate name for a child. Yet it seems that some have started to get attached to calling him Zero One. It's hard to tell them that they should not get attached, that it is just a test subject and that there will soon be hundreds like him later. But at the same time I do not want to let him go._

 _The Chairman has assured me that all measures will be taken to take good care of him. He is special, whether the upcoming program succeeds or not. As we scale up the process, the military part of the team has insisted the importance of raising the kids in pairs to ensure the best performance out of the pilots they will become. But Zero One, he is alone. Making a pilot out of him is impossible as of now._

 _When all the FRANVs were ordered to stand down due to all the... issues, we had to vastly reduce the scope of our defenses and put the old jets back in the air. According to the Board, there should be enough to maintain the current status quo for at least twenty years in an area twice size of New England around the Research Center... Which means that we might very well succeed..._

 _Those children are going to be the salvation of all that remains of civilized humanity. They will need to be in the best conditions to succeed in their task. And if anything needs to be done, I must be the one to lead the effort. I am already responsible for the collapse we lived through, I must be responsible of the reconstruction."_

* * *

The elevator silently rose up the floors of the main administrative building. The lack of any noise was deafening to the three people standing inside, but their minds were focused on something else. Each had a precise thing to do with only one chance to do it. They might have been used to those kinds of situations through their combat experience, but here it had completely different stakes.

They were far from being the only ones in that situation. The larger group had split up earlier, heading in completely different directions. Synchronization was key, and to ensure all of this, communications had to be maintained at all times.

"Hiro, we are in position near the hangars." Ichigo's voice, coming out of Hiro's communicator, was slow and calm. "Nothing unusual to report on our side."

"Understood," replied the boy, trying hard to sound the same and not give way that his heart was start to pound too fast for comfort. "We are still in the elevator, but we are almost there. Give us a minute and we will start our thing. Stay ready."

"Understood."

As he slid back the device in his pocket, he could not help but take a last look at his two partners in crime in that last endeavor before freedom. Zero Two was standing straight, her back resting against one of the walls of the cabin. Her eyes were closed, focused, her face undisturbed by the pressure. She had tied her hair in a small compact hair bun, not a style she usually had along with her living uniform. But without any time to spare, she had done it early to save time later on.

As for Eighty-Three, he had kept the headphones in his ears the entire time. His leg was slightly twitching and his head was bobbing up and down in rhythm. Like that, it was hard to see what his emotions were, but the likeliness of him being in the same state of stress was very high. He had high stakes of his own as well, and he was the one bearing the responsibility if the plan he had designed did not end up working.

The light tone that accompanied the opening of the lift doors was like a signal to set everything in motion. In a tight formation, they quickly walked down the corridor towards their target, expecting trouble to come from any corner. But things were awfully calm. Too calm. Only their footsteps echoed on the shiny white walls without a single person in sight.

But when the tall dark figure of a security guard appeared out of a doorway, everything went up a gear. The three were far from being authorized to be here, and the armed man knew it. However, he did not have the time to react as a fist immediately hit his exposed face. And the next second, he was on the ground, a knee pressing hard on his neck to prevent him from breathing. Sure, he tried to wrestle himself out of that deadlock, but with the two boys holding his arms and legs, there was not much he could do as oxygen started to run out of his system. And somehow, all this had happened without any loud noise. Or at least no noise loud enough to break through the sound insulation of the few offices located on this floor.

"We're clear?" asked Eighty-Three, quickly scanning all the possible entry points.

"Yeah… I think so."

Hiro was not a hundred percent sure of his words, but it was still better than nothing.

Despite having literally choked someone unconscious, Zero Two was completely unphased and immediately stood back up, ready to move on.

"We do not have much time left. The office is down this hallway."

"Yeah let me just… pick this up really quick."

In a way, it was convenient that this encounter had happened. Like all the other guards, this one had a small pistol hanging from his belt, useful for any kind of policing or self-defense. It might have been small, but a small weapon is better than no weapon at all.

"Ok, let's get going then."

At the end of the corridor was just one last door, larger than all the other ones, with a name written on it with large bold letters. As much as they wanted, they could not take the time to stop and think things through one last time. So, after everyone took in a deep breath, Zero Two swiped her bracelet in front of the detector and the door opened.

Eighty-Three remained out of sight in the corridor as the two stepped in, both turning towards where their target was as they were used to.

"Oh? Zero Two, Zero One Six... Is there something wrong?"

The sound of steps coming in from the part of the room he could not see was his cue. So he dived in, the handgun in hand, knowing that the target was not near any kind of alarm button.

"Put your hands up! Put your hands up!"

The old man they were after jumped back in surprise. It was only after a split second that he completely realized that this sudden intruder was pointing his barrel towards him, forcing him to comply.

"What is the meaning of all of this?"

His reaction was not fueled by fear, but more by an angry annoyance.

"You shut up and keep your hands up there... I'm the one doing the talking here."

Eighty-Three barked his orders with all the hatred he had gathered within himself for all this time. Standing before him was one of the most important members of the Entity, the head of research, the one responsible for everything.

Hiro did not wait for any kind of instruction to take a seat at the Doctor's desk. The furniture felt too large for single man, the lone keyboard and monitor lost in the middle of an otherwise empty table. Thanks to their surprising appearance, the computer they wanted to access was already on, but the report that was currently displayed was the complete opposite of interesting for them. But as he closed the document, Werner tried to protest.

"No, do not touch that! What are you trying to do?"

"We are sorry, Doctor, but we are making things right," coldly replied Zero Two with a piercing look to the Doctor. "You are the head of this facility, you can control everything from your computer, and we have things to do."

"Wha..."

Hearing this left him completely dumbfounded. And as things went along, the fact that he was being held at gun point slowly started to become the least important of his problems.

"Ah shoot! All the system controls are locked behind a security check. We need a password."

Hiro seemed annoyed when his attempt to reach what they were here for was met with a pop up asking for a precise string of characters.

"You heard him?" Eighty-Three started to yell, still holding the barrel straight at the old man. "Give the password now!"

But the Doctor kept silent, looking straight into the pilot's eyes. This reaction quickly destroyed all that remained of Eighty-Three's patience. In one rageful movement, he reached for the top of the slide and pull before letting it go forward with a loud metallic sound.

"If I were you, Doctor, I would comply with what he said."

Zero Two's calm voice was a sharp contrast. With her thoughtful choice of words, she seemed a good alternative to the angry armed man shouting at him.

"Fine... Fine... I'll tell you... Just stop pointing that thing in my direction."

What followed was a long list of letters, numbers and other symbols. It seemed too long and random to have been something a person would have come up with. And with one last input, the window disappeared, letting way for an entire new menu. From here, every key organ of the entire facility could be controlled, and this included the security.

With just a few clicks, the alarms located inside all the hangars were taken offline, granting free range to the other team. With other similar interactions, all the needed orders were given to ground crews and all authorizations were transmitted to air traffic controllers. On paper, everything was in check to allow for a safe take off. Problem was, after that, nothing was sure. Nothing allowed to control the air defenses, nothing allowed to control the radar network, nothing permitted to deny the scramble of interceptors. And nothing allowed aircrafts to completely disappear from all the screens of the Entity.

Which meant that now, they needed a diversion. And to trick the entire Entity long enough for everyone to get away, it had to be one hell of a diversion.

Still pointing the gun in the direction of the Doctor, Eighty-Three slowly walked towards the desk before pulling out of one of his pocket a familiar data drive and handing it over to Hiro.

"Transfer those files in…"

Without asking any questions, the younger pilot complied and plugged in the device into one of the few exposed ports. A pop-up message immediately appeared on the screen, asking for instructions on how to handle all that data. And quickly after selecting the correct option, the progress bar of the download took the place of the message.

"I do not know what you are all trying to achieve, but it is foolish!"

"And it is foolish of you to think that you will talk us out of it."

Zero Two's response was harsh and cold, and Werner was far from enjoying that.

"Why are you talking to me like that, Zero Two? I have always worked hard to give the best to you, and this is how you repay me?"

"We have all our reasons. For my Darling and for me, we are here to prevent the people you work for from killing some of our friends who did no wrong… For Eighty-Three, it's different."

The Doctor turned his head to face the gunman and see his reaction to the remark. But nothing had really changed. There was still this deep anger visible through his eyes and it was not showing any signs of calming down.

"You… You are monster! You have made us, you have lied to us and you have used us to establish your domination! You have the blood of millions on your hand, just because you were too greedy to let go of your power!"

"Me? A monster? I've worked without rest for more than half a century to build a better world for you to live in! Every decision I have taken was in your interest!"

It seemed that Werner was slowly starting to lose it. A growing anger of his own had appeared in his head from such accusations, and the mix with his already confused state of mind were far from helping him stay calm. But before Eighty-Three could yell something back, he felt a light tap on his shoulder.

"The download has finished. What now?"

Hiro, still sitting in the Doctor's office chair, was concerned. Many things had gone in the right direction for them to reach this step in their plan, and it only natural for him to be worried that it might all crash down on them at any second. Even if he was with Zero Two, they were still going against the Entity itself.

"Keep an eye on him, would you?" simply launched Eighty-Three to the pink-haired woman. When she replied with a head nod, he turned around and kneeled to be as close as Hiro as possible. Slowly, he pulled out a small package out of his pocket and handed it over to the boy. "Everything you need to know is in there. Open it up only when you are in safety with Fifty. Understood?"

"Wait, what? Are you not coming with us?"

"Someone has to stay behind for the diversion to work."

"Diversion? What diversion?"

"Oh don't worry... I have something planned. Now go!"

Hiro watched confusedly as Eighty-Three quickly stood back up and turned around. All the planning they had done beforehand had been based on the fact they all three would leave the Doctor's office. Yet there they were, the pilot of Twenty Bravo raising his arm and taking aim.

"Wait! Wait! Please no!"

But Werner could not plead for his life when the sound of gunfire rang inside the room. His leg exploded into a painful mess of bone and blood, making him fall hard on the ground like a rag doll, screaming and crying.

"That one is for Fifty! Do you think she was able to ask the Klaxosaurs not to destroy her leg?" But for only answer Eighty-Three received screams, the Doctor holding his thigh with hands already covered in blood. "This is what she went through because of you! This is what I had to take care of all by myself! This is why she cannot walk anymore!"

Hiro immediately jumped off his chair with the intent of protesting, but he stopped himself dead in his own tracks when his look came across Zero Two's and she shook her head slightly side to side. It was personal business, and it was better for them to leave him to handle it like he wished to.

So, without being able to take the time to properly say goodbye, both rushed out of the office. The closed door left the Pilot and the Doctor alone, one standing and one bleeding out. With the nearby panel, it was not hard for Eighty-Three to completely lock the panel, preventing any unwanted entry for a short while.

Now, there was just one last thing left for him to do. Anger was still boiling inside of him, but the idea of finally completely accomplishing what he had planned for so long launched a surge of feelings inside of his mind. As he sat behind the desk, there was a mix of excitement and joy of success as he sat down at the desk and started to open particular menus, all the while ignoring the painful moaning of the injured Doctor.

And it did put a smile on his face.

* * *

"Did you understand everything, Officer Emidova?"

"Perfectly, Chairman. I will be careful to go through it several times before handing out instructions to my squadron. Now more than ever, all the details are important."

"I was not expecting less from you, Officer. Make sure everything ends in success. End of transmission."

When the masked face of the Chairman disappeared from the screen of her temporary office, Maria let go of a long and deep sigh. The pressure was back on her shoulder with this sudden message directly from the head of the Board that announced the final operation was underway. Now, on her desk, a large pile of warm printing paper covered in secret information was waiting to be read.

It was a clear understatement to say that she was not thrilled to go through all of it, but it was one of the many obligations of the job. Reluctantly, she picked up the first few pages and quickly scanned it with her eyes. As expected, the first few parts were focused on a general description of the context and the expected consequences of both success and failure. Then it came to the information about the "where". Page after page, the papers were covered in precise data about the geography, the climate, the usual and expected flight conditions, the known pattern of their enemies... Even by just going over it lightly, she could easily tell it was the most precise mission preparation file she had been handed over for a long time. And it made one thing clear to her.

It was the operation to not fail.

With her now spiked interest, she reached for another set of papers, this time those dedicated to the objectives of all the squadrons. She immediately turned toward the twentieth part without really noticing the other set of instructions.

"Squadron Twenty," she started to read out loud to herself. "Main objective: escort of ground strike team to objective Alpha... Overwatch until arrival of Squadron Thirteen."

Everything seemed fine enough as she continued to mumble other details concerning approach vectors and required loadouts up until her eyes reached the final line of the section.

"Expected casualty rate… One hundred percent…"

Her fist clenched hard when her brain fully processed the meaning of that number. And it was not like many times before where mission risk had only been described by words such as low or high. But here, it was a clear numerical value that was telling that none of the pilots under her orders would make it out of it alive.

She kept the number in her stare for a long time, as if keeping it in the middle of her field of vision would somehow make it go down. But the ink did not move. Her mind was starting to race, trying to understand what the best course of action for them was. Complain and contest the orders to her higher ups? Refuse to carry them out? Make up her own plan and execute it in secret? Do nothing and hope that they would come back anyway?

But for each of those ideas, a negative consequence immediately sparked up in her head. The operation had already been planned out for weeks, months or even years and her superiors would ignore any request as to not ruin everything. Refusing would lead to certain punishment, as would doing something away from what was instructed. Lastly, the likeliness of a safe return was completely overshadowed by the accuracy of the Entity's strategic algorithms.

A quick glance at the information about other squadrons revealed similar conclusions for all of them. Only a few, assigned to handle tasks on the periphery of the area of operation, had expected rates below the fifty percent limit. Just from that, Maria could make a good guess that her reaction was shared by many other officers. She was in one of many offices, she just had to step outside and knock on one of the similar doors to share hers...

Her reflection was interrupted by a soft ringtone coming out of the roof mounted speakers. Its meaning was well known by all those that work within the facility. Like everyone else, Maria started to wait for Doctor Frank to start whatever speech he wanted to make. But something felt out of balance when, after a few seconds, the voice of the head of the facility had yet to be heard.

Instead, there was some kind humming fading in from the silence. And it did not take long before she realized that it was more reminiscent of a group chant, making their voices go up and down the scale in a simple group melody. Hearing that confused her. That channel was private to himself and rarely used by anyone else. And if her memory was serving her right, the Doctor was not really a man to listen to music on the job. So what in the world was Werner up to?

The sudden burst of drums and guitars made her jump in her own seat. Now something was clearly wrong with the Doctor. Quickly, she rushed outside, looking all around to find any more clues, but apart from other officers that were equally as confused, everything seemed normal.

 **Oh yeah!**

 **I went down to the crossroads.**  
 **Made a deal with the Devil.**  
 **Swapped my soul for a guitar.**  
 **Became a rock and roll rebel.**

 **He put fire in my fingers!**  
 **And whiskey in my blood!**  
 **He said "Take these six strings,**  
 **And burn Heaven above!"**

 **Are you ready? Are you ready?**  
 **You better get ready!**  
 **Once we start we never stop!**

 **Get ready to rock!**

"What the fuck is going on?"

Her question was only answered by more looks of confusion coming from her fellow officers. As a group of guards ran down the corridor and past her, she tried to get a possible answer from them. But she was ignored.

 **Got thunder and lightning,**  
 **Crashing all around.**  
 **The power is frightening,**  
 **One hell of a sound.**

 **And Heaven's on fire.**  
 **The needle is in the red.**  
 **But the flames are getting higher.**  
 **We're going over the edge!**

 **Are you ready? Are you ready?**  
 **You better get ready!**  
 **Once we start we never stop!**

 **Get ready to rock!**

Suddenly there was a rumble in her pocket as her communicator received an incoming call from Code One One Zero. She immediately brought it to her ear, but it was a struggle to even hear herself speaking.

"What is it?" she yelled as loudly as possible.

"Do you know what is going on?" asked the pilot on the other side, suffering from the same difficulties to talk.

"I have no idea… Are you all safe?"

"Yeah… At least the six of us. We don't know where Fifty and Eighty-Three are."

"What? Ah dammit! Just stay inside of your barracks. I'm attempting to contact them."

"Understood."

When the communication ended, the music was at its loudest, the main guitar going up and down the scale at high speed in an intense solo. But Maria was trying to ignore it as much as she could while picking a particular contact from a list displayed on her communicator.

But after long beeps, nothing came from the other side of the line. She tried again, but it was unsuccessful this time as well.

"Come on, come on… Answer me Fifty, answer me…" she mumbled to herself on her third attempt.

 **Once we start we never stop!**

 **Get ready to rock!  
Get ready to rock!**

More guards rushed passed her, heading in the direction of the nearest elevator. And each time they passed in front of an officer trying to ask them questions, they would just reply with hand signals telling them to stay within their offices and not get out. But the small workspaces did not provide any kind of protection as the music was still being blasted from the speakers.

But after what had felt like the longest five minutes in her life, the guitars, drums and voices started to fade away into a pleasant silence.

But it was not very long until a voice started to speak.

 **Good morning everyone, Code Zero Eight Three talking to you live from the office of Doctor Frank. I hope you enjoyed this song and I hope that you are indeed ready to rock because I have a lot more coming. So while I finish getting ready, try to get yourself into the mood a bit more. Here is "Fuel".**

She immediately started to run towards the nearest elevator. It was bad, very bad. She did not really know what she was supposed to do, but she knew she had to be there.

* * *

"So… What exactly do we have in here…"

The list of available documents was completely filling up the monitor of the Doctor's computer, and it made Eighty-Three let go an impressed whistle. He had wished many times to be able to access the complete file database of the Entity without any restriction, but now that he had that power, it was a bit overwhelming.

Everything from medical interventions to mission reports and even logistical interventions were listed in what surely felt like over a century of data. Thankfully, an entire bar of search filters was available, making the first few steps easier. Slightly bobbing his head to the background music, he started tapping on the keyboard the first keywords that came to his mind.

In the background, the heavy riffs continued as he scrolled through documents after documents. In only a few minutes, it was feeling like he had learned a thousand times more than everything he had gathered for days. And it was too good to keep to himself. So, when the second song of the set finished, he turned back around to the microphone and pressed the broadcast button.

"Well now everyone should be in the correct state of mind for what I have to say. I am mainly talking to my fellow pilots here, but everyone else is free to make what they want from that. Do you remember that Klaxosaurs are supposed to be our enemy? Of course you do, it is the entire point of our mission. We have been told it so much over our lifetime that it would be complete madness to deny it. Right? Well here I have in front of me something else. It is a report from experiences on Klaxosaurs from almost a century ago, signed by the hand of Doctor Werner Frank himself. And in it, under a section called Hostility it is possible to read this.

 _"Inside a secured and isolated test chamber, the captured subject had visual contact with the interior of a second chamber separated by two centimeters of armored glass. When a member of the research team entered without any gear, the subject remained calm and unphased. The experience was repeated ten times daily for a week without any change of results._

 _"The experience was then repeated with the researcher holding a magma power battery. Before the device was even inside the room, the test subject was already showing signs of hostility and tried to break the glass in attempts to reach the door. This continued during the entire time the battery was inside the room. Test was aborted upon the appearance of cracks on the top layer of the protective glass._

 _"Repeated tests seem to confirm the hypothesis that Klaxosaurs only show hostility towards entities getting in the way between them and magma. This would call for either a heavy reinforcement of security details in and around power facilities or abandoning the use of magma for power generation."_

Eighty-Three remained silent for a few second to let the words he had read sink in. They completely flipped the entire rhetoric of the Entity on its head and exposed the hypocrisy.

"For those that do not understand," he then continued, "it means that instead of letting go of magma as an energy source, the Entity chose to sacrifice millions, if not billions, of lives to hold onto their power with greed. That is the reason we exist. We might have been told that our goal was to save humanity, but in reality it is to make sure that the Entity can go unopposed in their domination."

Again, he left a long pause to let all of his audience grasp the gravity of his words. He could not see them, but there was no doubt that his speech had a heavy impact on everyone.

But when he started to hear banging on the locked door, his focused changed.

"Well well well... Looks like my friends have arrived at my door sooner than I had expected," he continued with a small smile on his face. "So while I welcome them and look up more things to reveal to you, here is some more music. I'm sure you will enjoy it."

After a few clicks, another song started to play from the many speakers of the facility, giving Eighty-Three enough time to stand up and walk up to the door, all the while making sure not to step into the small puddle of blood all around the motion less body of the Doctor. The panel was completely blocked from his side through the electronic lock, meaning that no one could enter without breaking things completely. Which meant that he had all his time before things get really hot.

"I am sorry sir," started the pilot through the door's intercom, "but I do not wish to have visitors at this time."

"Open that door immediately!" was the answer he got as the security guard continued to hit the door with his fist.

"Nope, can't do. I have so much to do I cannot allow anyone in."

"Is Doctor Franck in there?"

"Oh do not worry about him. He might be on his last leg, but he is fine. So, if you do not mind, I have important research to do."

As he walked away, the banging and yelling continued, but he did not care. Instead, he was happily jumping about in rhythm with the music in some sort of cursed dance. His hair was sent flying at each movement of his head, his arms were waving in sync with the drums and his mouth was singing the lyrics along. Despite being the center of one of the Entity's most guarded facilities, with no doubt dozens of armed guards still on their way to block him in, he had never felt so free.

The healthy human mind never woke up in the morning thinking this was its last day on Earth. But for him it was a luxury, not a curse. To know he was close to the end was a kind of freedom. Outgunned, outnumbered, out of his mind on a suicide mission. But the sand and the rocks of the world, stained with a hundred years of warfare...They would remember him. For this. Because out of all his vast array of nightmares, this is the one he had chosen for himself. He was going forward like a breath exhaled from the Earth. With vigor in his heart and one goal in sight.

He would destroy everything.

* * *

"Are you Code Zero Five Zero?"

Fifty was a bit confused when she two young pilots running towards her. She had been told by Eighty-Three to wait for him in an isolated part of the Garden, but he was nowhere in sight. Instead, it was this boy and this girl quickly coming in her direction with loud music playing from the speakers.

"Huh... Yes, it is me."

"Ah great," replied the boy, a bit out of breath. "Miku, contact the rest and tell them we have her."

A nod from the red head was all he needed before turning back around to focus back on Fifty and her wheelchair.

"Wait. Who are you? Where is Eighty-Three? What is he doing?"

"Don't worry, he is working with us. You must come with us to the hangars. We do not have much time left."

"What?"

"Look, you are in danger here... We are all in danger here. The Entity already chopped up one of your legs and they might do worse soon. So if you want to keep on living, you must come to the hangars with us!"

Frustration was starting to grow in the boy's voice, and it was making her less and less comfortable. But she had no real choice but to follow them. What else could she do?

"Where are you taking me?" she asked after putting her wheelchair into motion. If they were indeed with Eighty-Three, then she would have any reason to doubt them. But for now, it was better to be skeptical.

"Hangar eighteen. We have the rest of the group waiting there. Hopefully they already have secured a transport by now."

"A transport? I... I don't understand."

This time it was the girl who jumped in.

"We are getting you out of here. We are getting out of here. It's that or we all get executed for being traitors!"

"What? What did I do?"

"You, nothing. But seeing what your friend is doing right now, it is probably better to get you out as fast as possible if you do not want to be a victim of blind retaliation."

The music was still being blasted at full volume, a constant reminder that Eighty-Three was breaking the rules big time. There was nothing really that could be done at that point, and they were probably right on the fact that she would suffer from harsh consequences regardless. But at the moment, it was hard to wrap her head around the idea.

"Miku, we don't have the time to explain! We have to get out of here as fast as possible. Let's go."

The boy did not wait for any kind of answer before starting to run, forcing the two to follow him at this quick pace to not be left behind. Corridor after corridor, it seemed like nothing was happening. It was like they were standing in place, going neither forward nor back, only the music playing as a reminder of the passing of time.

No one really wanted to say anything, either out of focus or out of confusion. Things were going too fast to properly understand everything, even for those that had carefully prepared the plan. And with the rhythm of the music coming from the speakers, things were only seeming faster.

However, when a large number eighteen finally arrived into view, the run finally stopped, leaving everyone to catch their breath. But this break was not long before the door opened, revealing another pilot. She was not looking like she was comfortable with any of this, but she was still acting like she was the leader.

"Great! We are still one minute ahead of schedule. We are boarding right now so hurry up. Sorry, Eighty-Three, I am Ichigo, a pleasure to meet you, but we must get going right now."

After taking the time to introduce herself politely enough considering the situation, she stepped out of the way, letting the three enter the hangar. Even though all hangars had been designed with the hosting of FRANV in mind, not all were used to host the giant machines. And it turned out that the one numbered eighteen had been dedicated to the storage of many transport helicopters. Compared to the large holding space, each one of the vehicles seemed minuscule. But there was no time to appreciate the engineering prowess that was the design of the infrastructure as they were all hurried towards the one helicopter that seemed ready to fly.

In a remote corner, some members of the ground crew were lying on their knees, kept from moving by a tall blond pilot standing a few feet away, holding in his hand one of the small training guns they were all too familiar with. Whether or not it was loaded with any actual cartridges was up for interpretation though. But Fifty only had a small time to share eye contact with him before being pointed towards the rear cargo door of the transport aircraft.

Thankfully, the loading ramps had already been lowered, allowing her to get inside with her wheelchair without much trouble. There was not much inside apart from a pile of bags loosely secured by a set of straps and two pilots sitting on the side benches. They seemed a bit lost in all of this, but they were keeping themselves close to each other. Obviously they started to look at Fifty, trying to discover who exactly was this new comer. But on the sight of the electric wheelchair, they very well understood that she was in a situation somehow like theirs.

Through the opening to the cockpit, there were the last duo of pilot needed to form an entire squadron of the standard four FRANVs. And this time, the title of pilot seemed a lot more fitting. With their own suits on, they were going through the printed checklist. At each step, they would either pull a switch, push on a button or check a monitor, bringing the bi-rotor helicopter ever closer to a state where it could safely fly.

And all of it with the music still blasting from the loudspeakers.

"Futoshi, how much time?" yelled Ichigo from the outside of the vehicle.

"Could you please give us a minute?" answered one of the two in the cockpit, "It might not be that different from what we usually have, but we still have to get used to things."

"Understood, just get us ready to go out of here ASAP."

With just that remark, she stepped down of the ramp and back onto the concrete ground of the hangar, disappearing from Fifty's field of vision. With that, she finally had the opportunity to really think about what was really going on. Why was she here exactly? The few reasons she had been given so far were vague at most and seeing what the means this squadron had managed to get for this escape were making her even more suspicious.

"Do you know what is going to happen?" she asked to the couple next to her. With the same number thirteen on their shoulder patch as all the others, they probably had more answers.

The two shared a look before answering, probably to decide who would be the one to speak. In the end, it was the girl that turned her head back towards Fifty to look her in the eyes.

"Now, I imagine we are waiting for Hiro, Zero Two and your friend Eighty-Three... Although if he is still broadcasting, maybe something different will happen."

"And... you are?"

Now, she was mostly worried about Eighty-Three. He had promised he would meet her at the place he had indicated and he had never failed her when it came to promises. But she had heard his voice on the speakers, she had heard him speaking about information coming directly from the database of the Entity. And if he was still up there, there was no real chance he could get down to the hangars in less than a minute.

"I... I am Code Five Five Six, but people often call me Kokoro. And this..."

"I am Code Three Two Six... But I prefer to be called Mitsuru. We usually would have introduced ourselves as Thirteen Delta, but we wish to leave everything behind us."

"And why are you here? It's just that I don't really know what is going on..."

Again, they shared unsure looks. It made it clear to Fifty that something was up, but it seemed that they were doubting whether to share it or not.

"We... we did something... Something the Entity already punished us for. But we do not fit in their mold anymore now, and we fear the worst could happen."

She remained silent to the implications from Kokoro. And if the words used meant what she thought, then the situation was bad. But did that also mean that she was herself in such a danger? If her own tests finally did not go as planned, maybe she would be in such a situation.

Those questions kept running in her mind up until the sound of people talking came to her from the outside of the helicopter. From where she was, the only thing she could really do to see more of it was to move next to the closest observation window. And what she could see from it was another thing to add on the pile of worrying elements.

There were two new people standing near the entrance, but with their back turned toward the helicopter, the only thing she could really see were their hair. Short and dark for one, long and almost pink for the other. What she could see clearly, however, was the concern on Ichigo's face. At a moment in the plan, something unexpected in a bad way had to happen and it seemed like it was it. From her observation point, Fifty could clearly see her speak as if to bargain something from the two standing in front of her. But it was all in vain as they continuously shook their head in denial.

When it looked like she finally accepted the situation, a small package changed hands. Ichigo was not really sure of how to handle it, but it was not long until she put it in one of her pocket. And after one final check at their communicator, most probably to synchronize timing, the two left by the door. It seemed like things were getting even more into motion as she quickly made her way back to the open bay of the helicopter.

"T minus fifty seconds! We need to get moving!"

A unanimous sound of acknowledgment came from the mouth of all the others. But quickly enough, any sound coming from a human mouth was drowned in the growing noise of the engines starting to rev up. The combustion of refined magma in those turbines was a loud process, but a necessary one to give the aircrafts the long range they were known for. The rotors then started to spin as well, adding themselves to the cacophony drowning the music of the speakers. It was so loud that nobody could really hear the rumbling of the heavy hangar doors sliding out of the way, revealing the bright blue of a sunny day. Never had the skies seemed so much like a gate to freedom. For once, they would fly without restrictions, without the orders of a higher power.

One after the other, all those that remained outside rushed inside the helicopter. The machine then slowly started to roll on the ground, giving the opportunity to the now free ground crew to run to safety out of the hangar. But with the cargo door closing, Fifty realized something after a quick headcount. In total, they were nine inside the helicopter, the two pilots, the two that needed to run away, the four other pilots of Squadron Thirteen and herself. Eighty-Three, however, was nowhere to be seen.

"Hey, stop! Where is Eighty-Three? You are leaving him behind!"

With direct eye contact with Ichigo, Fifty felt her heart break when the squadron leader shook her head from side to side.

"He... He is not coming with us. He must stay behind to distract the Entity..."

"What? No no no, you have to turn back! I can't leave him behind!"

But her continued cries fell on deaf ears. At a relatively slow speed, the helicopter rolled slowly on the ground following the standard taxiway. From the outside, it probably did not look that different from the standard procedure despite the inexperienced crew.

But from the inside, it was completely different. Despite the wheelchair, Fifty still tried to make her way to the cockpit to get them to stop. However, the way was blocked by the blond pilot, still holding his gun. He was clearly not hostile, but he was not going to move either.

"It was his decision to stay behind. If you trust him, you have to let him go."

"We have to get him! We have to take him out of here!"

"No! We have to get out of here before we get shot down. The window he is giving us will not last forever."

With this figurative wall standing in front of her, Fifty could only look all around her. But the only thing she could see were more pilots that were more than serious on running away. And this sight just broke her heart even more. She was hopeless, without any more means to fight back to protect her partner.

With her head down, she did not really feel the helicopter stop on the designated take off area, nor did she see the slick silhouette of the experimental aircraft leaving its own hangar towards the runway. Thanks to Eighty-Three's sacrifice, all the necessary information had already been transmitted to the air traffic controllers, leaving them free to take off without issue. Or at least before people in the control tower realize what was actually going on.

It was then a feeling of lightness that took over her senses as the rotor blades spun quicker and quicker, lifting the dozens of tons of the frame in the air. The pilots were in control despite their lack of experience, and soon they were high enough to start moving away.

"What course?" yelled the boy in the cockpit.

"For now just get us away from here! We don't have time," replied Ichigo with a newly regained sense of authority.

"Understood."

Fifty, however, was still lost. She wanted to cry, she needed to cry. Out of shame, out of fear, out of doubt. But she could not. Something else was filling her mind yet she was unable to tell what it was. Maybe it was her trust of Eighty-Three, that he had planned all of this for her own good.

But when the communicator that was still in her pocket started to rumble, she was quick to reach for it and turn it screen on.

 **10:09  
Tuesday**

 **One message by: Code 083**

 **"GPS tracker of the helicopter is located between the cockpit and the cargo bay, behind the co-pilot, under the med-kit compartment. Smash it and they won't have you on their scopes.**

 **I'm sorry we can't be together. Godspeed, Fifty."**

* * *

 **Hello and thanks for reading the ninth chapter of Discoveries.**

 **So now we are really getting into the action. I had these ideas for a long while now, and I am happy I am finally able to put them down on digital paper and post it here. Next chapter is probably going to be a finale of some sort, but I have ideas beyond what has already been planed and I might come back to it a bit later. But for now I let you enjoy things as they are.**

 **Anyway, thank you all for reading, and I'll see you in the next chapter.**


	10. A Tout Le Monde

**AUDIO FILE WF-214211051006**

 ** _"Start recording. The date is November fifth, twenty-one forty-two. Current time is ten past ten in the morning._**

 ** _Once again, my teams have proven their worth. Once again, we have shown to all that the power of our science exceeds the expectations of all the members of the Board. The fact that a ground team had managed to come back alive from their operation to survey the core of the Klaxosaur hive mind was already incredible. The fact that they brought back a large DNA sample was unthinkable. The fact that we managed to make something out of it was a miracle._**

 ** _Ten months ago, the orders about what to do with it came directly from the Chairman himself. With this power, we had to create a new kind of children. Stronger, smarter, more agile, and most importantly more competent with their mind linked to an onboard computer. So, we got to work. And now the results are here._**

 ** _Two weeks ago, Code Zero Zero Two and Code Zero Zero Three, respectively a girl and a boy, were safely extracted from their artificial wombs. Sadly, the latter passed away this morning due to respiratory complications linked to a lung development problem. We are keeping Code Zero Zero Two under close medical surveillance even if she seems out of danger for now._**

 ** _As expected, almost everything is different about her. Brain activity is almost fifteen percent superior than usual as I speak, muscle mass is vastly superior and other indicators are similar. But those are just numbers on medical reports. Even just looking at her makes it clear that her blood is not the same as the one that flows in our veins. A thin layer of bright pink hair is starting to cover the top of her head and two horns have started to grow from her skull._**

 ** _I know all of this should not cloud my judgment, but I am experiencing a surge a feeling I had not felt since the birth of Zero One all those years ago. But this time, it is different. The Chairman has given me another set of instructions, and I cannot stress enough how much I appreciate them._**

 ** _He has formally tasked me to restart the project of the second generation of FRANV, including the complete mind link control. Everyone was expecting it and I had already made sure that the genetic biologists include the lessons learned from earlier testing. In her head is a brain modified to optimize connections with external interfaces, and we hope with other pilots. This will be the hardest part of the endeavor._**

 ** _The Entity has acquired decades of experience in the design and building of airframes. But complete mind-link is an uncharted territory that we have failed to successfully explore in the past. If we want to succeed once again, I know that I will have to keep a close watch on everything, including Code Zero Zero Two. I have invested so much into giving the pilots a good life, but I know I can do more. Never have I had the chance of becoming a parent before, but maybe this is finally it."_**

* * *

From the large windows of the Doctor's office, Eighty-Three had a good view of the twin-rotor helicopter rising over the infrastructure of the Entity. He knew that there might have been a way for him to be in that aircraft, that maybe if he could run fast enough he could join them, but he had already made a choice and he had to commit. Even if that meant forcing Fifty to be on it without him.

The shape of the experimental aircraft sitting on the runway was much harder to clearly see than the one of a regular FRANV. But the lack of any bigger aircraft on the ground really put it in the middle of the spotlight. It did not take long for it to start to roll down the long strip of black tarmac, gaining speed at a stable rate up to the point where its nose rose and the wheels left the ground. Completely free from the influence of gravity, it jerked vertically and continued its ascent up until it reached a high enough altitude.

"Thirteen X-Ray, do you hear me?"

The convenient thing about being in the office of someone used to direct test flights is the integrated radio. Eighty-Three only had to speak at a normal volume for concealed microphones to pick up and send his words over the waves.

« Loud and clear. We are staying in orbit to check for any scramble before our first run. »

"Understood. I am keeping them busy over here. Eighty-Three out."

With a smile of satisfaction, he turned around and walked back to the desk. Music was still playing in the background, and he could still hear the protests from the guards coming from the other side of the door. But he ignored all of this as he continued to type on the small keyboard.

With a few keywords and time to go through the result of the search, he had the power to pull out everything he wanted from the database. He had already shared the truth on the hostility of Klaxosaurs, he could do it again for everything else. So when the song finally stopped, he leaned back towards the microphone, the same grin on his face.

"Now you all remember how we are all supposed to be the children of the Chairman. He always calls us his daughters and his sons. Well it turns out that this not true either. We are not the sons and daughters of anyone in particular. Each one of us comes from the pairing of DNA samples taken from a large database. No names, just numbers. We are but numbers descending from another set of numbers under the watch of people in lab coats. And of course, for the few that know what pregnancy is, I must point out that all of it is completely artificial. Ironic, isn't it? The saviors of humanity barely having anything that relates to the apparently grateful masses that they protect.

Now, you might be asking yourself why? Why would they go through all of this? Well I will answer this question in a bit. But for now, I must tell you that you should probably try to find a place where you can see the fuel storage depot." His smile grew larger as he lifted his finger from the button that allowed to broadcast to the entire facility.

"Thirteen X-Ray, you are good to go."

« Copy that. Commencing gun run. »

The slick aircraft did a quick flip before pointing its nose towards the ground. The dive only lasted for a few seconds, but its consequences would last for much longer. The heavy rumble of the thirty-millimeter cannon resonated across all the facilities as it fired hundreds of high explosive rounds towards its target. The energy carried by each one of these was enough to penetrate the relatively soft cover of the fuel storage buildings.

The FRANX swiftly returned to the clouds with the power of its two engines as below, the chain reaction had already begun. One after the other, each of the large storage tanks detonated from the heat to form one large fireball. The heavy shockwave followed soon after, shaking everything in its path and breaking all that was not strong enough. Luckily enough, the window of the office was reinforced, preventing Eighty-Three from getting covered in thousands of shards of glass.

"Good effect on target. Great job. That will cripple them for a while."

« Understood. While you are in there, could you look up something for me? »

That question took him aback. He had been explained how their system works and he knew that the voice he was speaking to was not the voice of either one of them in particular. Of course, he had expected communications following standard radio procedures to work. It was just cold data transfer. But here, the combined minds of the two spoke as one outside of any sort of protocol.

"Huh… Yeah. What do you need?"

« The exact location of the archives of the genetic division that holds all the pilot files. »

"Right away."

It was not planned, but he liked the idea. If this was not going to completely disrupt the Entity's operations, then nothing would. So he started typing away, looking for the information he wanted. But he was stopped in his progress when the computer started to beep and a dial started to flash next to the keyboard. The screen had changed as well with a panel appearing on top of the screen.

 **One incoming video call  
URGENT  
HPEB-01**

Eighty-Three's smile grew bigger and he pressed the dial. There was an overwhelming feeling of satisfaction when the emotionless mask of the Chairman appeared on the screen.

"Finally! I started to think you would never call."

"I order you to stand down immediately!"

The pilot's only reaction was to laugh.

"As if I was going to do it."

He could only imagine what was happening below that mask, but the very audible sigh gave a pretty good idea.

"For the good of everyone, stop before you destroy more of our work."

"The good of everyone? Did you really just say that? Is it the same good that made you continue using magma even despite the Klaxosaurs?"

"You are trying to understand things beyond your comprehension, Code Zero Eight Three. There is a much bigger scope that you simply cannot see."

"But I can still read your own archives, Chairman. And it looks a lot like we are not supposed to fight for humanity, but just for you instead."

The Chairman sighed again, shaking his head.

"And I am the only one that has proven able to be the salvation of humanity! All the governments, all the institutions, all the politicians failed to protect their people. What we lacked was unity, strength, and coherence, and I was able to make all of this a reality to eliminate the Klaxosaur threat."

"And thus you condemned millions to death to keep yourself on top and maintain your immortality!"

"And I have saved millions more that would have died had the old powers continued on. If the sacrifice of ten that oppose me is enough to bring salvation to one that has entrusted me with their life, then so be it!"

"We never entrusted anything to you!"

The silence that followed was heavy. Anger was rising in both minds as each failed to show the other their mistakes. All of this while they were being listened to by thousands of members of the Entity all over the facility.

« Eighty-Three? You got my intel? »

This interruption from the radio broke the stalemate as the pilot returned to his research.

"Still on it. Wait one."

"Whatever you plan on telling them, I am ready to pardon everything if you keep silent."

Eighty-Three stopped for a second, as if to consider the offer. He turned his head back to the video feed of the Chairman to make his face clearly visible.

"Thirteen X-Ray?"

« Send it. »

Another second of silence.

"Building twelve, third deck, north-east corner. Outside walls are not reinforced."

« Copy that. Strike inbound. »

And so the dance began once more. With the appropriate angle, the FRANX dived down before letting go of another burst from its cannon. Not much was left of the designated target but a large cloud of smoke and rubble and the first flame of a fire taking over the storage servers.

"That's a good hit, X-Ray. Good job."

« Understood. Breaking off orbit and regrouping. Good luck down there. »

"Likewise, X-Ray. Thanks for all. Code Zero Eight Three over and out."

During all of this, Eighty-Three kept his eyes dead on the mask of the Chairman.

"Is this how I am thanked? Is this how my hard work starts to crumble down?"

"I am not thanking the one that lied to me for my whole life and ordered me to die for that life."

Silence once more. And this time, it was Eighty-Three that had the advantage. His objective had been accomplished and now everything else was just a bonus. As for the Chairman, he was defeated. The physical damage in itself was manageable, but everything else was far too great to be quantified.

The pilot quietly observed him as the Chairman put both of his hands on the side of the mask. At first he had doubts but the metallic clicks quickly made him realize what was going to happen. Slowly, the front panel was lowered to reveal something that Eighty-Three never though he would see one day.

The dark skin of the Chairman's face was far from looking like one of a healthy human being. Scars and deep wrinkles made him look like one of the monsters from scary story books, but his saddened eyes and frown kept him clearly human.

"I do not ask you to believe me. I only ask you to listen to me."

* * *

Long before all of this began, I was just a young man with a computer and an idea. From that idea, I managed to create a company that changed the lives of people so much that I rose up the social ladder to become one of the richest. It was at that time that humanity truly started to control the power of Magma.

Most saw it as the ultimate source of energy, the best tool for the manufacture of consumer products, a giant leap forward for the industry, and other similar denominations. But I knew there was something else that could be done, that the power of its effects on the human body could be harnessed and used to better our entire species. So using my own personal wealth and outside investments, I helped develop medical research on the subject.

I never thought that derived from it, we could engineer immortality. I volunteered to test the first serum that could prevent aging. I suffered the side effects greatly, but it still worked. And what did I do with this newly found power? I kept it hidden until its perfection. I truly wished for all of humanity to benefit from it and not be exposed to harm.

But sadly, it was at this moment that the Klaxosaurs appeared. And it was at this moment everything slipped out of the control of the old powers. One after the other, power plants large and small fell down as countries tried to keep their status. For most, it was their lack of military power that prevented them from fighting back. For the rest, their bureaucracies and unwillingness to cooperate was their downfall. Thus, with many of my partners, we decided to take the matter into our own hands.

This is how the Human Protection Entity was born, with the objective to save humanity from both the Klaxosaurs and its incompetent leaders. The best minds in healthcare, armament, aeronautics, engineering and much more all joined me under this newly formed banner, aware that we could not rely upon politicians and bureaucrats. We hunkered down and planned our moves, our influence growing with every passing day.

But this altruism was not the only reason. Among the names of the first million victims stood the ones of my wife and of my son. They both died in the first attack of a Klaxosaur in the area where we lived. When the order to evacuate the civilians had come, our home had already been crushed by the monsters.

The rest would be too long of a story to tell. The FRANVs, the Settlements, the Pilots… Everything was an adaptation to another problem thrown at us by fate in our fight to bring humanity back on its legs. Discarding Magma altogether would be an unforgivable step back that I cannot allow. The fate weight of so many souls rests on my… No, our shoulders… We cannot turn around.

I do not know if you believe any of the words I just spoke, but you must understand that all of this is not about greed. You might think that what you just did was a justified act of rebellion, but you have just condemned everyone to fight for even longer. You have condemned many more to death. You have condemned yourself to harsh punishment.

* * *

"You have continuously lied to us for our entire lives. Why should I believe any of this now?"

The Chairman sighed.

"I have never lied to you. What you are revealing is irrelevant for your own education, and the conclusion you have reached from it is flawed."

Eighty-Three only shook his head, still with a small smile at the corner of his mouth. Slowly he leaned back towards the microphone.

"Sadly my friends, I do believe that this broadcast will end a bit sooner than expected. So after I am gone, you must all always remember that the Entity lied and that they will discard us all the moment we are no longer needed. They do not hesitate to eliminate the useless. So stand up and live for yourself!"

The Chairman did not say anything. Instead, he clipped the front plate of his mask back on and ended the call. Eighty-Three knew what would be coming next and when the spark of the breaching tool started to eat through the closed door, he was ready.

Standing right on his feet, weapon in hand, facing the door directly, he waited patiently. When the bright yellow mark reached the bottom of the frame, a localized explosion was just enough to bring the separated panels apart and for the assault team to throw their flashbangs inside. The light and the sound were both painful, but he stayed on his feet. He could not see the guards rushing inside or hear their boots. He just rose his arm up and pulled on the trigger as many time as he could in the blind before being tackled to the ground.

* * *

 **AUDIO FILE WF-215012162130**

" _Start recording. **The date is December sixteenth, twenty-one fifty. Current time is half past nine in the evening…**_

 _We… We just had an incident. I hope I would have never had to say those words one day, but here I am. This morning, the team was going along the standard testing and education schedule with Zero Two. But to everyone's horror, the outer window of her room had been broken and she was no longer inside. Search parties were dispatched immediately, with only clue being the broken branches of the tree placed directly next to the breached window._

 _Outside, the weather was not only bad, it was also worsening. Snow had already been falling for hours and a blizzard was on the way, meaning that hopes of finding her were getting slimmer with each passing minute._

 _After two hours, the only clue we had was a torn piece of cloth stuck on a bush. It gave us a sense of where they had gone, but we had to call it off. Too much wind, too much snow. It took another few long hours for everything to clear out and for the search parties to go back outside._

 _I cannot describe the relief I felt when a trooper announced over the radio that they had found her. And she was not alone. There was a pilot along with her, most likely the culprit behind the break-in. They had survived the storm by finding refuge inside a small cave and by setting a fire to a bunch of sticks. The guard later explained that as under the effects of hypothermia as they were, the pilot tried to resist and had to be knocked unconscious. He also pointed out that the only thing they had with them apart from clothes was a book from her room._

 _Both were immediately sent to medical for checks and it seems like neither are at risk. Still, I have given my orders. The two of them must undergo cognitive alteration, the pilot will return to his formation and all records must be kept secret. We already came too close to a dramatic conclusion and I do not want it to happen again. The simple thought of coming close to losing Zero Two is already devastating to all of us. Even if we ignore all the work and testing and weapon programs, I do not want to imagine seeing her die under our watch… The one that we have had in our care for years now. But I imagine that if she was so prone to trying to run away, things might have to change once more. Maybe we are too detached, maybe we are too harsh on her… I do not know what they are yet, but there are lessons for us to learn from this incident. And the sooner we do so, the sooner I will be able to put all of this behind me."_

* * *

 **Human Protection Entity Internal Safety**

 **Incident report G-5985**

 **Note: Due to the classification of elements appearing in the following report, only level S accredited personnel are cleared to access.**

 **Personnel losses:**

 **Code 002 – Away without leave**  
 **Code 015 – Away without leave**  
 **Code 016 – Away without leave**  
 **Code 050 – Away without leave**  
 **Code 056 – Away without leave**  
 **Code 083 – In custody, high security**  
 **Code 196 – Away without leave**  
 **Code 214 – Away without leave**  
 **Code 326 – Away without leave**  
 **Code 390 – Away without leave**  
 **Code 556 – Away without leave**  
 **Code 666 – Away without leave**  
 **Officer Kubawashi – In custody, low security**  
 **Officer Emidova – Under investigation**  
 **Doctor Frank – Under heavy medical care**

 **Material losses:**

 **Research Center Fuel Storage Building – Destroyed**  
 **10 x Large Magma Fuel Holding Tank – Destroyed**  
 **Genetical Division Archives Data Center – Destroyed**  
 **1 x CH-48 Block Mag Heavy Transport Helicopter & fuel – Lost**  
 **1 x FRANV Two X Fighter & fuel – Lost**  
 **2 x Medium Magma Guided Bomb – Lost**  
 **1300 x 30mm Internal Machinegun rounds – Lost**  
 **1 x Leviathan-class Tactical Warhead – Lost**

 **Unknown data drive retrieved on location. Investigation in progress.**

 **MONITORING OF ALL PERSONEL FOR UNSAFE BEHAVIOUR RECOMMENDED. OPERATION ATONEMENT POSTPONED UNTIL RETURN OF SCAPEGOAT.**

* * *

"Radar cut off, transponder is off. We are now off the grid."

As she flipped the different switches, Ikuno stated the new state of the helicopter over the internal net. It was a relief to all those in the back, the heavy headsets over their ears.

"Doesn't look like they managed to launch any interceptors. Now we just have to wait for the rendezvous with X-Ray."

Futoshi's precision added to the overall feeling of optimism that quickly filled up the cargo bay. They had actually managed to do it. As for Fifty, she was still feeling a heavy part of her heart doubting.

"So what now? Where are we going exactly?"

At first, nobody replied. Looks were quickly shared between the members of Squadron Thirteen. It seemed like none had yet realized that the time had come to ask themselves that question. Ichigo sighed and stood up. While making sure not to fall, she stepped through the cargo bay to stand in front of the wheelchair.

"I have something for you, Fifty."

Without giving any time to respond, she pulled out a small package from her pocket and handed it to the sitting pilot. A confused Fifty grabbed it, felling a familiar shape under the soft cloth cover. She quickly untied the simple knot, revealing the object that confirmed her suspicions.

Eighty-Three's music player felt heavier in her hand than it was in reality. She was perfectly aware of how much he liked this device and how important it was for him, making it a strange honor to have it handed to her. The screen was dimly lit, and it looked like a song had already been selected and was waiting to be started. Unsure, she picked the two earphones and slid them under the heavy helicopter acoustic protection and pressed the play button. And when the soft acoustic guitar started, her heart skipped a beat.

 **Don't remember where I was,  
I realized life was a game.  
The more seriously I took things,  
The harder the rules became.  
I had no idea what it'd cost.  
My life passed before my eyes.  
I found out how little I accomplished.  
All my plans denied.**

It may not have been his voice that was speaking, but it was one last message from her teammate to her as they parted ways. She might not have known where he had gotten access to such music, but in this whirlpool of emotions it did not matter.

 **So as you read this know my friends,  
I'd love to stay with you all.  
Smile when you think of me.  
My body's gone that's all.**

Even with her eyes closed, she felt the tears rolling down her face. Never seeing him again was something she had a hard time grasping. The hope she had of him making it out alive was what had powered her to keep going, but this was gone as well.

 ** _A tout le monde, a tous mes amis.  
Je vous aime, je dois partir._** **  
These are the last words I'll ever speak.  
And they'll set me free.**

The other kept quiet, watching her with sorry eyes. They knew they had to let her grieve just as they all grieved when their old teammate Naomi was pulled out of a transport craft wreckage barely breathing.

 **If my heart was still alive  
I know it would surely break  
And my memories left with you  
There's nothing more to say  
Moving on is a simple thing  
What it leaves behind is hard  
You know the sleeping feel no more pain  
And living all are scarred**

At the same time, the silhouette of the FRANX had rejoined them, flying slowly alongside in an unexpected two ship formation.

« We are all clear. Congrats everyone. »

"Thanks for the info, X-Ray," replied Ikuno to the synthesized voice. "Any idea of where we are headed now?"

« Check the package. He said that all instructions are inside. »

Even with the music, Fifty heard the words. With a now blurred vision, she noticed a folded piece of paper sitting concealed in the cloth wrapping. Carefully, she unfolded it, revealing Eighty-Three's cursive handwriting. And as expected, a set of instructions was written in it.

"So what do we do?"

"There is a set of coordinates. It says that it is a safe place."

The sequence of numbers designated a precise location somewhere in the world. As Fifty read them aloud one by one, Futoshi inputted them inside the onboard computer. After some short calculations, a flight path was generated to lead them to this new destination. Would they really be safe there? None could say, but as long as they were going away from the Entity, they would be happy with it.

It took them long hours of low altitude flying to reach this promised land. Everyone was tired, fuel was slowly starting to run out inside the tanks, yet they continued on until they reached what was described on the paper.

 **There is an old airfield at this location. Land and hide the vehicles in the hangars.**

In the middle of the green wilderness and ruins, the black stretch of an old runway was quite visible. The small facilities surrounding it had been abandoned for more than a century, but they all looked like they could provide the concealment from aerial reconnaissance.

Touchdown was rough for both crafts, an unmaintained surface bringing high stress to the landing gear of the FRANX and an unfamiliar set of commands making it hard for Ikuno and Futoshi to bring the helicopter down smoothly near the hangars. But once they were on the ground, there was no more reason to go back to the skies. With the same kind of small issues, the two crafts slowly taxied into the empty hangars.

When the engines finally stopped and the doors were opened, the cold air was a relief. Everyone regrouped near the now silent helicopter. The cheers that followed where good for the morale, but they were still far from any decent shelter. The instructions had planned that.

 **Go into the center of the town southwest. Look for the church.**

So they all started to walk. As they progressed through the ruins, the wonder of discoveries was counter balanced by the uncertainty of the safety of the area. Goro was gripping tightly the handle of the submachine gun, ready to raise it at any would be target. Gradually, the type of buildings changed from industrial warehouses to smaller and older installations more suited for housing. Everything was awfully quiet for those that had only known the outside world with the loud roar of jet engines. Here, only their own footsteps and the wind passing through leaves were echoing on the crumbling stone walls.

None knew what the church they were looking for looked like, but when a large and dark building came into view, it was clear it was their objective. And as she followed on her wheelchair, a strange feeling grew in Fifty's mind. She had already been here before.

But when the armed people jumped out from behind rubble to completely surround them, the group stopped. The ambushers were pointing simple rifles of wood and iron, forcing Goro to bring up his own gun. Then, one voice finally spoke.

" _Lâchez votre arme et dites qui vous êtes_ _!_ "

It was an unknown language they could not understand, but it was still obvious they were trespassing onto their territory, whoever they were.

It was Fifty that made the first move as she rolled into the open.

"The hell are you doing?" yelled Zorome.

"I'm following the instructions," she replied without turning her head back.

Most gunmen stood confused as they watched that girl stop outside of her group with her self-powered wheelchair.

 **If you meet anyone, ask to speak to Frederic.**

"Which one of you is… Frederic?"

They might not have understood the language, but they understood the name. They shared looks between themselves until one of them stood from the rest and stepped forward. His coat sewed from many different pieces of cloth contrasted with the dark bulletproof vest underneath and green clothing. He looked doubtful as he closed in on Fifty.

"You… Fifty?"

His accent was rough and untrained, but it was understandable enough to show that he knew her, as strange as it seemed for some.

 **Tell him I sent you.**

"Yes. I am. Eighty-Three told us to come here. For protection."

Frederic nodded and waived his arm. All the gunmen lowered their weapons. Then, with a smile, he continued.

"Eighty-Three… Friend. You… Friends also."


	11. Hallowed Be Thy Name

**I'm waiting in my cold cell when the bell begins to chime.  
Reflecting on my past life and it doesn't have much time.  
'Cause at 5 o'clock, they take me to the Gallows Pole.  
The sands of time for me are running low, yeah!**

Eighty-Three could not tell how long he remained locked inside the dark and empty room. Only the somehow regular meals of nondescript broth served as a reminder that outside, time was still flowing. He could not tell what the consequences of his actions were. Sometimes, he could hear someone passing by in front of his door and he could only wonder if that activity was linked to what he had done.

When someone finally stopped and opened the door fully, the cold light from the corridor was blinding. The two bulky silhouettes that entered were not subtle when the grabbed him and violently put him on a stretcher and cuffed his hand and feet to the railing.

 **When the priest comes to read me the last rites,  
I take a look through the bars at the last sights  
Of a world that has gone very wrong for me  
Can it be that there's some sort of error?  
Hard to stop the surmounting terror.  
Is it really the end, not some crazy dream?**

Alongside them was an Internal Safety officer, easily identifiable with his verdigris uniform. As he started reciting paragraphs upon paragraphs of legal terms, Eighty-Three did not listen. He already knew what all of this meant. This, like with everything else, went on for far too long before he finally finished and gave the instruction to the guards to push the stretcher down the corridor.

 **Somebody please tell me that I'm dreaming.  
It's not easy to stop from screaming.  
The words escape me when I try to speak.  
Tears flow, but why am I crying?  
After all I'm not afraid of dying.  
Don't I believe that there never is an end?**

He had never expected things to finish like this. He did not want things to end like this. He would have preferred finishing with a literal bang, like a martyr in the eyes of those he tried to liberate. But there he was, the stripes of neon lights on the ceiling flashing in front of his eyes as he was carried towards his silent and meaningless doom.

 **As the guards march me out to the courtyard.  
Somebody cries from a cell "God be with you".  
If there's a God then why has he let me go?**

The escort stopped in front of the closed elevator doors, waiting for the lift that would carry them up to their destination. The doors opened after a light tone and another similar group stepped off. But the one being escorted had way less restrictions than him. It was an officer that he did not know personally, but the embroidered number thirteen on her shoulder was enough of an explication as to what had brought her down here. Their looks crossed for a split second, and she could only give a simple respectful nod. But at this point, respect had lost all of its meaning. Without ceremony, both were hurried along their paths and the doors of the lift closed.

 **As I walk all my life drifts before me.  
And though the end is near I'm not sorry.  
Catch my soul, it's willing to fly away.**

With the slight push of the elevator going up floor after floor, he could only wonder what had happened to the pilots of the thirteenth squadron and Fifty. He had made sure that they could get away, but all the rest was up to them in the world they did not know. Frederic had welcomed him and his co-pilot once, and he knew that the church would be a welcoming place for all of them. Maybe that at this time, they were enjoying freedom in an unpolluted wild.

 **Mark my words, believe my soul lives on,  
Don't worry now that I have gone,  
I've gone beyond to seek the truth.**

The lift stopped and he once again was pushed along another bland corridor. Did he regret any of the things he had done? Of course not. Just being able to expose reality to everyone was worth all what he had done to achieve it and all the consequences he was about to live.

 **When you know that your time is close at hand,  
Maybe then you'll begin to understand  
Life down here is just a strange illusion.**

When the stretched was finally pushed inside another room, he knew that he was not going to leave it alive. Along the various pieces of medical machinery a row of people were standing straight, waiting for Eighty-Three to be latched on the operating table. With their surgical masks and mob caps, only their eyes were visible making the appearance of one undistinguishable from the other. With straps tightly locking his body to the cold steel surface, those clones started to swarm all over him with probes and equipment to ensure how fit he was after all this time in solitary.

This lasted for a long minute up until the point where all his vital signs were deemed good enough and the request to proceed was sent to the relevant authority that was most likely watching over the procedure through security cameras. Without surprise, it was an approving answer that came back to the medical staff, kickstarting the final step of the procedure.

One doctor stepped forward with a syringe full of a precise dose of a clear liquid. Carefully, he put the thin head of the needle on the top of one of his veins and started to push the agent inside. It was cold as it slowly started to spread through the entire body along with his blood. One after the other, his muscles lost their will to move. First his fingers, then his arms, then his feet and legs.

His head and his brain were next. So in an attempt to remain active as long as possible, he opened his mouth and with all the force that was left in him he yelled.

 **Yeah  
Hallowed be thy name**

It was not a cry for help or a plea for his life. It was defiance towards those he was still fighting against. It was defiance towards those that were watching while he was on the chopping block.

 **Yeah  
Hallowed by thy name**

When the black veil covered his eyes, he only had the strength for one last sigh that faded away along his consciousness, leaving behind a cold and unmoving body.

 **Yeah**

* * *

Welcome and thank you for reading the eleventh and final chapter of Discoveries.

 **I have had a lot of fun doing all of this for a year and a half now and I hope you enjoyed going along with me as I put my own twist on Darling in the FranXX. I might not have had the same kind of numbers as what my GATE fic, but it is not why I did that. Far from it even. And now that I have reached a good point to close it on, I feel like it is a good time to take a break.**

 **Of course, I have some basic ideas on what could happen next, but it is not enough to make a good story out of. Maybe I will make a sequel sometimes in the future, maybe I won't. Only the future will tell.**

 **Once again, a huge thank you to all of those that have read this story, to all of those that have followed it and favorited it and to all of those that have left reviews. I hope I will see you again with another story in another fandom or something completely different.**

 _ **Merci**_


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